Well, When You Go
by TheDubbs
Summary: After the death of Bruce Wayne, the boys gather in the cave to receive their last orders from their collective mentor. Fully expecting for Dick to reclaim the mantle of Batman with Damian at his side, the entire family is shocked when Jason receives a letter leaving him the cowl. Tim Drake/Jason Todd
1. Chapter One

**CHAPTER ONE**

He hadn't worn a suit since he was Robin. Not a real one. He'd had plenty of Robin suits. He'd broken one almost every night that they went out on patrol and he was pretty sure that alone was the sole reason that he was Alfred's favorite. Jason had needed him more than the others. Even if it was just because he was reckless and clumsy, because, if you are coming after the golden boy- charm really didn't get you anywhere. All of his suits after that never really felt _super._ It was just what he wore until it broke, then he would replace it again. But he'd had _this_ suit for a while, he'd just hope that he'd never have to wear it.

The car ride to the manor was silent. The four of them hadn't been in the same place all at once since Grayson had run off to play Spiral. Those had been the good days. When Dick was gone and Tim was still talking to him. He glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Alfred was driving and he had taken the front seat so that the three actual brothers could mourn their father. Dick was watching Damian who was messing with his phone acting like he wasn't upset at all, but he had his hand clenched tight in Dick's with no sign of letting go. Dick's other hand was on Tim's knee. It was perfectly brotherly, but the sight of it had been enough to have his hands balling at his sides and his eyes moving forward. Tim wasn't looking at any of them. His eyes were straight out the window, watching the city go by them as they made their way back home.

There wasn't anyone following them. Bruce had been buried at the manor two days prior but the city had also had a ceremony, closed casket of course, and a second grave made up for him in a, now empty, local plot. So they all went. The three of the living sons accepted condolences while Jason waited in the car to avoid suspicion and tried not to mope about something so stupid. Which he knew it was. But that didn't make any of this suck any less.

They sat for a minute when they pulled up to the manor, the weight of the day and the onslaught of people keeping them glued to their seats. Only Alfred saying, "I will have dinner ready in half an hour" pulled them out of the car. They went their own ways when they actually got inside. He watched Dick go up to the attic and Damian head out on the grounds. Jason walked up the stairs to Bruce's study and stood in the doorway, willing himself to feel nostalgic but he got nothing from it. He hadn't spent enough time in this house to feel anything but formal discomfort when he was there. He stepped inside and looked around at all of the books, the papers that were still spread across Bruce's desk that he hadn't gotten around to.

"It was a nice service." He jumped a little when Tim showed up in the doorway. He was always too quiet, and sneaking up on Jason was his favorite past-time.

There was a ghost of a smile on his face that Jason couldn't help but return as he shrugged. "It looked better from the car. Not as much color or crying." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and let himself really look at Tim for the first time since… a long time. He looked smaller somehow. Sad. But mostly he looked tired. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Tim just shrugged. And after that he shook his head and laughed in a humorless way. "Dinner is ready. We probably shouldn't keep Alfred waiting."

None of them ate very much. But they sat there longer than they needed to anyway, none of them wanting to get to what they were there to hear. It was Alfred who rushed them off to the cave so that he could clean, telling them he would be in with the papers shortly. They were quiet. Dick sat at the computer with Damian on his lap, while Jay and Tim sat on one of the evidence tables close by, looking around at the cave that had made all of them.

Alfred had made quick work of the kitchen and when he came down he had four envelopes with each of their names written on them. Damian opened his first and read it over quickly and silently, nodding to himself as he went along. "He wants me to go to the Titans," was all he said and they all looked at Dick to go next.

He read his more slowly than Damian had. And when he spoke his voice was thick. "He… left me Damian," was all he said and he looked at the boy on his lap. Jason would have expected him to lash out and say he wasn't a toy to be passed off but he just sat quietly and settled little further back into Dick's chest.

Tim was next. His hands trembled as he pressed his thumb under the seal and shook out the heavy letter. His was longer than the others, detailed with direct orders but, at the end of it, all Tim said was, "He gave me the company." Jason put an arm around him as the shock set in and then they were all looking at him.

Jason ripped his envelope open and pulled out the single small white letter that had two words etched into it in a tiny neat sprawl. He drew in his eyebrows. "It just says 'The Cowl.'"

The computer sprang to life at his words and read back, " _Voice recognition, Jason Todd. Video access granted._ "

The screen went dark for a minute and then Bruce was there staring at all of them, still half in his suit and looking like he had just had a particularly rough night. Jason sprang to his feet and stepped closer almost like he thought he could touch him if he reached out but stopped himself right before he got to the desk. The video of Bruce sighed and somehow managed to look right at Jason even when he wasn't really there. He was quiet for a minute, just looking at them until, "I never intended on any of you having to take this from me." His voice was like a fresh punch to the gut as he waited for his next words. "When I started training Dick, I told myself that the Robins were a contingency plan. If I ever went the wrong way that they would be the end. They would do what had to be done to make sure that I was stopped. But I never saw that in Dick. I didn't see it in Tim or Damian. They are good men with large hearts. They cannot do the things that you and I know have to be done Jason." He swallowed hard feeling the gaze of four people shift to him all at once. "I know you never asked for this-"

"No." Dick protested confused but the video kept going.

"I know that I failed you in a way that I can never be forgiven. But Gotham has always been your city. As much yours as mine. I trust that you understand what I mean when I say that the Red Hood can wait. Gotham needs a Batman." He typed something into the computer and kept talking. "In the case of my death, I would like you to take the cowl. The manor, the cave. Our resources are all yours. The codes have been updated to fit you, voice command has been changed to your voice and your access level will have no limit." He looked at the screen again. At Jason through it and never blinked. "I hope you finally see that I trust you. With everything I have. You are the only one I would want to have this burden because I know you can take it." the computer dropped back into the flat blank screen that it had been before but no one had been watching it for quite some time.

"This has to be a joke right?" Dick was the first to talk. Jason didn't look at him, he still just couldn't believe this was happening. "Jason has the least training of all of us. I mean he was only Robin for a few months! He-"

"Is the best option." Alfred said from right behind Jason, a comforting hand tightening on his shoulder. "Master Bruce always knew that if things went badly, Jason would be the one to step up and do what needed to be done." He held a hand up to Dick when he tried to talk again. "It is done. Let it be done."

Dick stood up and glared at him hands balled into fists at his side. "You didn't even want to be a part of this family." He hissed furiously, "You don't deserve this."

"Neither do you." Tim bit at him, finally joining the conversation. "It's not like Jason asked for this."

"Jason never _asks_ for anything. Bruce was always so guilt driven by him getting himself blown up that he-"

"I don't want it." They all stopped and looked at him. He was staring at the letter. The one with two words on it in Bruce's handwriting, the heaviest letter he'd ever received. He looked up at Dick, his throat burning as he glared at him. "If you are going to cry about it then take it. You did such a good job last time." He barked at him and shook Alfred's hand off of him, marching back up to the manor and out the door. He wanted to be in his bunker. He wanted to be alone.

Tim ran a hand over his face as Jason stormed out. Dick turned to him. "You know this is a mistake," he looked to Damian who was sitting in the chair Dick had just vacated staring at Dick with wide eyes.

Damian refused to look at him. He hadn't even acknowledged that Tim was there since it happened. He'd heard him. Dick had been so quiet when he told Damian. The boy had refused to accept it. He'd yelled at Dick for lying to him. Then he'd said it. " _It's Drake's fault_." Dick had said something, but it didn't matter. He needed someone to blame. Tim looked at his little brother now. He could take that blame. But he wasn't letting him lose the last person in his life.

He stood up, stepped up to Dick. He looked him straight in the eye. "Bruce gave you the one thing that mattered the most to him. Damian needs you. Gotham can survive without Bruce. Can he?" he whispered the last question and Dick's anger washed out. The grief was still there underneath it all. He doubted that it would be going anywhere any time soon.

Dick turned and looked at Damian who was just staring at the letter in his hands. Dick gathered Damian in his arms. Tim had turned to leave when Alfred touched his elbow. He sucked in a breath and met Alfred's eyes. He knew Alfred wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth he seemed to lose his words. He touched Alfred's elbow and gave him a brief smile. A reassurance that he didn't need to worry about him. He knew it would do very little good, but he had to try.

Jason was in the garage. He was cursing and kicking at his bike. He tried again, but the engine refused to turn over. He grabbed a key to the Ferrari and the lights flashed as the doors unlocked. Jason looked up from his bike. He shot him a smile and climbed into the passenger seat. Jason slid into the driver's seat. He handed over the keys. The engine roared to life. Jason drove carefully through Bruce's collection of cars. None of them as loved as the one below, but all cherished. He rubbed the permanent marker on the edge of the seat. Bruce had done it when he was a kid. He'd gotten bored while his dad had worked on the engine and had drawn stick figures across the original leather seats.

"You can do it," he said letting his head rest against the seat as the wind rushed through his hair. It was a rare day in Gotham. The sun was out, the smog had lifted. It felt like the city was apologizing for taking Bruce from them. Jason sighed.

"No one wants me to be Batman," Jason said softly, so quietly the wind almost whisked it away.

"Bruce does. I do," he looked over to Jason. "You can do this." Jason glanced at him, for just a second before focusing on the road ahead of them.

He expected to go back to Jason's bunker. Jason, for all his bravado and insisting to do things on his own, needed a safe space that was just his. So when they pulled up in front of Tim's building he was a little surprised. Jason turned off the car once they had pulled into his space in the parking garage. He played with the keys before handing them back to him. Their hands rested together between the seats. He watched Jason push open the door and climb out of the car. "Are you going to sit there all day?" Jason asked. He followed him through the aisles and into the elevator. Jason hadn't been there before, and yet he knew the floor and didn't hesitate when the doors opened. He pressed his thumb against the lock on the door, earning an eye roll.

"Why would he do this?" Jason asked as soon as the door shut. "Why?" Jason asked voice breaking. He looked up at him and moved. Jason's arms wrapped around him as soon as his head touched his chest. He held on. "I'm not ready for this," Jason whispered into his hair, his voice ragged with tears that he refused to shed. Tim just hugged him tighter. There were things that he could say. Words that might convince him that he would be ready, but Tim just wanted to be held for just a little bit longer. Just wanted to pretend that they were still together, that Bruce wasn't dead, and that he was happy. That they were happy.

He didn't know how long they stood in his entryway holding each other, but Jason yawned and he realized just how tired he was. There had been so much to do. There hadn't been any time to sleep. He pulled Jason in to the living room. Jason sat down, shifting onto his back as he settled in. He pulled a blanket around his shoulders and joined him on the couch. He wrapped his arms around Jason as best he could and closed his eyes, listening to the steady beats of his heart. Jason shifted and he settled more comfortably onto the couch. He felt something brush against the top of his head. It reminded him of his mother when he was young.

He woke up slowly. Jason was still asleep, his breaths a relaxed rhythm. He sat up carefully moving the blanket so it still covered him. Jason looked younger when he slept. His face relaxed and carefree. He grabbed a bottle of water and settled in the recliner across the room. He pulled out Bruce's letter, crumpled from getting stuck between them.

The letter began with simple instructions. He'd expected the first few lines. They had talked enough about his future that he knew Bruce wanted him to take over WE. He skimmed his thumb over his name at the top of the page in Bruce's precise handwriting. He reread the letter, taking his time. He looked up at Jason, he'd pulled the blanket tighter around him in his sleep.

 _I have rewritten this and cannot find the right words. I don't think there are any. Just know that I am proud of you. I am proud of the man you have become. I know that I don't say that enough. I have let you down. I have let you all down, but you most of all. You've lost so much. I watched the hope fade from your eyes with each person and did nothing. You are one of the strongest people I know. Do not let the darkness consume you as it consumed me._

He closed his eyes and held the paper to his chest. Bruce continued on, but his chest ached.

"What does it really say?" Jason asked.

Tim looked at him, eyes dry. "He told me that he'd chosen you." he folded the letter carefully and slipped it back into his suit pocket.

There was more, there always was, but Jason didn't want to fight about it right then. He sat up, his head feeling heavy like he was getting over a cold and his skin was freezing. He pushed the blanket off of him and got up, walking over to the window. The nice day was gone and it was another rainy night in Gotham, no signal in the sky- like the rest of the city knew somehow that no one would answer it. But it would be up. Too soon the signal would be shining in the clouds and Bruce had left Jason to answer it. Jason of all people.

"Do you think this is a test?" he said finally into the quiet of the apartment. "Do you think that somehow, somewhere Bruce is watching us to see how we handle all of this?" he knew that he sounded stupid and hopeful like some little kid.

Tim smirked at him. "Yeah that would be great." He told him sarcastically, "You respond so well to tests."

And there it was. It always came eventually. The small hint at their past that made the present too painful to stay in. He felt the pain and panic rising back in his throat again and turned back to the room. "I should go." He told Tim grabbing the keys and heading for the door.

His hand was on the door knob when Tim's closed around his wrist. "Where are you going to go?" he asked suspiciously.

Jason closed his eyes trying very hard not to roll them at the door. He thought about lying. "I don't know." He said instead. Tim didn't let go of his arm so he turned around. "What?" he asked.

"You aren't going to run are you?" he asked.

Jason snorted humorlessly. "And go where?"

Tim continued as if he didn't answer, "Because if you do, I know a team of highly qualified Meta humans that can find you."

"Tim."

"And I swear-"

"Tim." He grabbed him by his shoulders and made him look at him. He let go. "I'm going back to the manor- home I guess. If you need me, I'll probably be there until I can figure out what's going on. Okay?"

Tim blinked and nodded at him. "Okay." He told him calling, "I'll see you tomorrow." as he shut the door.

Tim was in the kitchen with Alfred before he'd even woken up looking all pressed and professional in a green sweater with a stack of papers in front of him. Jason knew he looked like a mess. He'd spent four hours hitting things down in the cave when he got back and passed out in an old pair of sweats and a Gotham knights t-shirt that hadn't fit him since he was fourteen. "Good morning Master Jason." Alfred said warmly, putting a cup of coffee in his hands and pushing him into a chair. Jason blinked as a plate was placed in front of him and frowned. He had forgotten what this was like. He was going to have to get used to this again. To having people.

He drank his coffee and watched them. Tim crossing through contract lines and adding notes and Alfred bustling around them, setting food on the table and wiping down counters. He picked at a pancake, he never really had much of an appetite in the mornings. "We have a busy day." Tim told him still flipping through his document. "You should eat. We won't have time later."

He put down his fork and took a deeper drink of coffee. "What are we doing?" he asked, his voice was husky from his late night and he grinned when Tim glanced up at it. He'd always had a thing for Jason's morning voice.

Tim forced his eyes back down. "You're coming to work with me."

"Why?" he asked forcing himself to take a bite of pancake.

"Lucious needs to get your…measurements." He said clearing his throat.

Jason pushed the plate away and went to take a shower. He wasn't hungry after all.

He felt naked being dressed in the clothes that Bruce has always hoped he would wear. The jeans fit too well and the the red cotton shirt felt like it was tailored for him. Jason threw his jacket over it and followed Tim out to the car he had waiting in the front. They sat together in the back not talking to each other as Gotham sped past them, the morning yelling and honking into traffic was surprisingly relaxing. He sat back in the seat and let his eyes shut. He hadn't realised that he dozed off until Tim shook him awake.

The receptionist sat up a little straighter as they approached, fixing Tim with a million watt smile. "Good morning Mr. Drake." she said immediately and turned to Jason with flirty eyes. "Who is your associate?"

"This is Jason Todd," he told her easily. Jason had never been one to visit Bruce at work or show up to work functions with dad. His name wouldn't be in the system. "My boyfriend." The receptionist blinked and tried to make it look like she wasn't surprised. "Will you please have a badge made for him?"

"Yes sir," she agreed instantly and snapped a quick picture of Jason before shooing them to the elevator.

Jason smirked at him when the doors closed. "Boyfriend, hm?" he asked. "What exactly did Bruce write you?"

Tim flipped him off. "Unless you want to be put on as a member of the board then shut it." He told him. "You need a reason to be here on a regular basis. I'm your reason."

"Yes sir." He saluted and Tim punched his arm.

Tim knew that it was the easiest explanation, but he'd spent most of the night before thinking of some other reason. Some reason that didn't remind him of what they'd had. It was too easy to slip back into old routines. Their relationship had started like that, just settling into a patrol rhythm together. And then they were just… together. He hadn't even noticed. He'd woken up one morning and realized they were dating. He wouldn't let that happen again.

He walked past Bruce's office steps stuttering when he saw the name still etched on the glass door. Jason's words cut off. He glanced back to see that he had stopped. Jason was looking into the office his expression too open.

Tim shook his head. No matter how much Dick denied it, Jason had wanted to be part of the family. Every time Tim would come home from a rare dinner he'd ask how it went, eager for any news on his siblings. He'd listen to every story like he couldn't get enough. He was always there when they needed him. Tim took Jason's hand. He missed Bruce, as much if not more than they did. Jason gripped his hand tightly. He let go as they walked into his office.

"Fox will be down in a few. You can get some sleep if you want." he pointed to the couch, he'd specifically had brought in for his power naps. It didn't exactly go with the design of the office, but it was comfortable. It got used more than his bed at his apartment did. There never seemed to be enough time to actually get in bed. Instead he found time for a quick nap on the couch while he worked on a case or a report. Or just a few minutes to close his eyes between work and patrol. Occasionally Bruce would stop by to make sure he left. He'd study the photos on his shelves like he hadn't looked at them before while he finished what he was working on and they'd head back to the manor together. They had been some of his favorite moments.

Jason was looking at the photos now. He had pictures of the whole family. Stephanie and Cass featured in most of them. The only picture he had of Damian was with Dick. Dick was making a face and Damian was rolling his eyes a smile tugging at the corners. He'd seen Bruce smiling at that picture too many times to count. He had a few of the Titans, mostly of them in their street clothes. He could tell when Jason saw it. His shoulders raised as he tensed. He only had one picture of Kon on the shelf. He had still been Robin. Kon hadn't even known his name yet. They were all in costume. Bart had dragged them all out into the crowds of people all dressed up for Halloween. He'd met three other Robins that night. Kon had posed, flexing, with every Superman he saw. It had been a fun night, none of them had wanted it to end. Cassie had snapped the picture of them before they headed back. Kon's arm was draped over his shoulder and Bart blurred slightly at the edges because he couldn't sit still for anything.

Jason turned, but before he could say anything Lucius walked in. He greeted them with a warm smile and shook Jason's hand. He watched as Jason followed the older man, a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Mr. Drake, there is a Clark Kent in the lobby for you. He's from the Daily Planet. I told him we weren't giving interviews at the moment but he said you'd requested it?" she sounded like she didn't believe Clark, but didn't want to take the chance. He was surprised that Clark had come.

"I did. I meant to let you know. It's okay to send him up."

Clark thanked the security guard as the man showed him to his door. The reporter looked at him before shutting the door, giving them as much privacy as the glass walls could provide.

"You got a letter too?" he asked. Clark sat down in the chair across from him. It was strange seeing the man of steel look so defeated. Part of him still thought of his childhood ideal of what Superman was, but the reality had changed. It was Clark sitting before him. Clark looking tired and a little lost.

"It was programmed into the Fortress. I don't know how he did it and I can't even make him tell me." Clark rubbed a hand through his hair with a wan smile, his signature curl fell over his forehead.

"How are you doing?" Tim asked before he could stop himself. He could see how the Kryptonian was doing.

"It's quiet," was all he said. The silence stretched as Clark looked out the window behind him. "I don't understand what he was thinking. Jason?" Clark looked at him over the rim of his glasses. "Do you think he made the right choice?"

"I do," he answered simply.

Clark tilted his head slightly, studying him. "Okay. Most of the league will follow my lead, but he'll need to earn Diana's respect." Clark spoke frankly like he did during a mission briefing. The switch was startling.

"Wait? Just like that you're backing him?"

Clark quirked a tired smile at him. "He asked me to, and I trust you." Clark stood. "The next meeting is in a week, barring any invasions that is. I'll see you then." And just like that Superman walked out of his office completely unaware of how he'd just blown Tim's mind. He didn't know how long he sat there repeating Clark's words 'I trust you', but the next thing he knew Jason was walking back in. He looked more like himself.

Jason liked Lucius immediately. Which was impressive seeing as Jason didn't really like anyone ever, let alone all at once. He didn't talk much, just let Jason snoop through devices and gadgets until he needed to measure him again or strap him into something before pulling him back out of it. Jason tapped a small blue shell on the table and a net of electric wiring shot out at him. He side stepped it and looked back guilty at the man behind the desk.

"I'd be careful Mr. Todd," Lucius told him with an almost smile. "That charge might not look big, but it will put you down for the count."

He picked up the unopened pod and walked over to the work desk. "Do you mind if I-?" he asked and Lucius shook his head pulling up a chair next to him. He gave Jason access to his tool set and watched as he carefully cracked the pod and examined the trigger mechanism inside of it. "Pressure released?" he asked.

Lucius looked impressed. "It is." He agreed.

Jason nodded fiddling with it. It was the same shock that Dick used in his Escrima sticks. He had been so impressed with them when he was a kid, the perfect tool to take down but not kill an attacker. He thought about his guns. He thought about having to give them up. "How small do you think we could make this?" he asked, noting the twinkle in Lucius' eye as he sat back in his chair.

He left Tim at the office around three with a promise from Lucius that he would have his suit ready to try out in a week. He turned the electropod in his pocket and picked up his new company pass from the cute receptionist on the way out. The company car was waiting for him in the front, the driver holding a door open to him. Jason hesitated before eventually climbing in. This was all so surreal to him. A kid from the wrong side of the street that thought he was man enough to steal tires off the Batmobile was now climbing into the back of a Wayne car and going back home. To a manor. Bruce Wayne's manor. That he willed him to stay in- at least until Damian was old enough to take over. But he didn't want to think about that.

Alfred greeted him at the door with a cup of hot tea and demanded his jacket from him. "How did it go?" he asked looking more like himself.

"It was… okay." Jason told him honestly and then added, "It was weird." And he frown at Alfred, that hesitation from earlier hitting him again. "It feels like I should have…" he stooped and pursed his lips. He didn't want to finish that thought if he didn't know where it was going.

Alfred understood. "Are you hungry, sir?" he asked.

Jason shook his head and lifted the tea. "This is all I need. I think I'll go downstairs for a bit." He told him heading for the cave entrance in the drawing room as fast as he could to escape the look Alfred was giving him.

The cave lit up as soon as he walked through the door and he stood there for a minute taking it all in. There were so many levels of the cave that he wasn't sure he had ever been through all of them. There hadn't been enough time before he took off on his own, too young and stupid to think he'd need help-

 _Stop._

He dropped the mug and spun around ready to punch Dick's stupid face in. He was the only person who could mimic Bruce's voice that well and he had given him a free pass yesterday.

No one was behind him. He stayed tense but didn't move, his eyes scanning the room slowly as he listened for any sign of movement. "You aren't funny Grayson." He said into the silence, but that was all he got in return. Jason took a step back and glass crunched under his shoe when he hit the mug but he wasn't convinced yet. It had been so fucking _clear_. He sprinted up the stairs back to the manor and slid into the entryway where Tim was handing his jacket over to Alfred. They blinked at him and he wondered how he must look to them right now.

"Is something wrong, Master Jason?" Alfred asked, if he was concerned he did a good job covering it.

His eyes shot to Tim who was less good at covering his concern. Dick wasn't here. He wouldn't be able to resist shoving his nose where it didn't belong. His heart beat faster but he forced it down, "I uh, broke a glass." He breathed and pushed past them to the kitchen to grab a towel.

"Shall I bring you another cup?" Alfred asked.

He swallowed before he turned around and put on an easy face. "That would be great." He told him and pushed past them before Tim could ask and marched back down to the cave.

He stopped in the doorway, it was still lit up from when he left, the broken glass still on the floor, everything else had been untouched. He stepped cautiously and looked back up the staircase to make sure they hadn't followed him before he asked.

"Bruce?" he asked into the void. It was so quiet. His hands were clenched in shaking fists at his side as he waited, stupidly to see if a dead man would answer him. But the moment passed and Jason's ears heated as his throat tightened and he resigned himself to cleaning the broken mug. He hadn't even realised he cut himself until he was bundling up the pieces.

Alfred made another cup of tea. Tim watched him from the counter. He hadn't seen the man stop since Br- since the funeral. All of the dishes, even the ones on display that he'd never seen used had been rewashed. Everything had been dusted multiple times. Alfred poured the tea and set it on a tray as he poured a second.

Tim ducked under Alfred's arms and wrapped him in a hug. Alfred stood stiff against him before his arms closed on him and he let out a shaky breath. He knew there wasn't anything he could say to make it better. Alfred pulled away and he let him. "I'll take them down. Get some sleep?"

"Is that not what I should be saying to you?" Alfred asked a wry expression on his face. "I will retire for the evening if you will see that Master Jason and yourself sleep as well?"

He picked up the tray. "I promise I'll try."

Alfred seemed to know that it was the best he was going to get. He left the pot next to the sink and headed toward the stairs. He knew the man was drained just by that fact alone. He'd never seen him leave a dirty dish for the entire time he'd been at the manor.

Jason was pressing a bandage to his palm when he walked down with the tea. "You okay?" he asked setting the tray next to the computer. Jason tossed the plastic tabs in the trash bin.

"Please tell me you didn't make this." Jason said a look of mild horror as he took in the cups of tea.

"No. Are you ever going to let that go?" Jason snagged his cup. There was something tense around his eyes. Tim watched him smirk. The tension easing a little. "I burned tea one time."

"It was thick. I still don't understand how you managed that."

"You drank it," he grumbled as he sipped at his own cup. He didn't know how Alfred did it. He could practically feel the stress of the day fading away.

" _You_ made it for me," Jason said with a shrug.

Tim stared at him. He should make some stupid remark back. Instead, he sat down at the computer and logged in. His access didn't appear to have changed. "We should go over the open cases. Most of them are just ongoing things that will need to be monitored. There were some fishy deaths near the docks that need to be considered a little closer." He glanced over and Jason was just looking at him.

"Why didn't he just give it to you?"

"I don't want to be Batman. I never have. Now most of the GCPD will work with you."

"Tim."

"What? We need to go over this." he refused to look away from the screen. "I have patrol in a little over an hour. You have a League meeting in a week. This needs to happen." he paused, waiting for Jason to object. "You worked this case with him. Let's start there." he pulled up the file. Jason sat down in the chair next to him. They worked the rest of the hour on the open cases.

"I'll be back," Tim said heading for the cases.

"I'm not just staying in here all night."

"Your suit isn't ready." he reminded him as he pulled off his shirt. Jason's eyes darted down his chest and back. He grabbed his top, pretending that he hadn't noticed.

"I have my own suit." he motioned to the Red Hood sitting a few feet away. "No one else knows that I'm supposed to be Batman and you should have some back up out there." He pulled his pants on and started with his belts. He reached for his wings, but Jason was already holding them up. He bit back a sigh and let him attach them. "I'm coming with you."

He flexed, feeling the mechanics flex with him. "Fine."

The symbol on his chest had never felt heavier as Jason took to the alleyways, trying to get used to being in a team again. The outlaws had been on hiatus since Biz had gotten back to his normal mind and family matters had always been so few and far between when they actually thought to ask Jason for help. Even then the comm's were quiet. Tim, on the other hand, was a fountain of information. He talked almost the entire time, nervously and dutifully correcting the way Jason stood. The way he moved. The way he spoke. Poking at him until he fell into the right stance. "Bruce did it this way." he would say, or, "Try it like this." By the end of the night he was stumbling across rooftops instead of sneaking through alleyways and his entire body was sore from doing things he hadn't even tried since he'd been Robin.

He shucked off his boots and jacket, falling into the computer chair and finally feeling the bruise on his shoulder from the butt of the empty shotgun that he had been whacked with at the docks. The computer jumped to life at his touch and so many things popped up that he didn't even know where to begin. Jason forced himself to go to the report logs and not play with the new program so that he could type it out as fast as he could and get to the showers before Tim used all of the hot water. He stopped right before he finished though, a ghost sense of Deja vu creeping over him that he couldn't explain. His hands fisted on the keyboard and he closed his eyes, refusing to look over his shoulder even just for a second.

"Almost done?" he jumped as Tim came back into the cave in his pajamas and his hair damp.

Jason shook off whatever it was that had frozen him and finished his sentence before he hit send and pushed away. "It's all yours." He told him clearing his throat and leaving him there before he could figure out something was wrong.

He spent most of the week with Lucius messing with electric pods until they were small enough to fit in a bullet casing and tested the pressure release until it cracked at impact. After that they moved onto ballistic pellets. And then whatever else Jason could get his hands on. "You are putting everything but a bullet into that gun." Lucius smirked at him as he watched him target the test dummy and shoot.

Jason shrugged, "Bruce was never big on bullets." He told him and shot again. "But it's what I know best. So I figure if I take the kill out of it, then maybe he wouldn't stare down at me disapprovingly from… wherever he ended up."

When he wasn't in the lab, he was in the cave training. Throwing batarangs, running obstacle courses, relearning to use the stupid grappling hook and all that mess. He pushed himself as hard as he could, he ignored Artemis' calls and he went on patrols before Tim could make an excuse to go without him. The routine was mind numbing, but it wasn't really much different from what he was doing before.

He felt ridiculous and self-conscious while Lucius and Tim examined him, walking around Jason like lions as they pulled at and adjusted the suit. He couldn't look at them, the red haze of the night vision sensors in the cowl making everything look just that much more insane. He couldn't believe that he was wearing this. When he was a kid he had always dreamed about someday being Batman. Of course Jason had never thought about what taking over the job would mean. He snuck a grin at Tim when he walked in front of him, unable to keep it to himself. Tim's eyes twinkled at him and Lucius pulled him back in with a question. "It's tight." He answered, "In the shoulders. I can't lift my arms past my torso." He admitted lifting them as far as he could. Lucius nodded and told him to take it off.

He felt more like he was putting on a costume as he changed into his street clothes and waited while Lucius took the suit to the back room. "Well," he said when he came back to them, "I am going to need this for another week to make adjustments," he said with a frown. "After that it's yours until you break it, Mr. Todd." He nodded to both of them and they left.

"The meeting is in two hours." Jason sighed, his anxiety already spiked at the thought of having to stand in front of a room of people who had respected Bruce and expected Dick to be his successor. "If I go as Red Hood, Diana will throw me out of the tower."

"There is another option." Tim told him after a minute and stopped in the middle of the lobby.

Jason stopped as well and fixed him with a look. "I can't." He told him, nausea climbing up his throat. "I won't."

Tim frowned and took him by the elbow. "You have to."

When he was twelve, Jason used to sneak out of his bedroom window when his step dad had a bottle too many. He would hang his feet off the side of the building and watch crime pass under him. Listening to the shouting and the gunshots and wonder what it would be like to stand back and run with all he had to the edge of the roof and force himself to jump. The way he saw it, it could end one of two ways. He would fall and probably die, or he could keep running and fly away.

Jason had never believed that people could fly until he met Dick. It was always such a big deal to everyone how Dick moved- the flying boy wonder, never ceasing to marvel everyone who met him. But if you looked past Dick, if you watched Bruce...you never would have known that his feet even touched the ground.

Jason felt like he was sinking. He looked at himself in the reflection of the elevator doors as they shot up to the top of the tower, trying to tell himself to breathe. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was an imposter, a little boy in dad's clothes. His throat tightened thinking about that. The worst part was that the suit actually fit him pretty well. Even looking at himself now the resemblance was only slightly questionable and he hated that he was about to have to step into a room and be faced with a horde of second glances. It was different than when Dick had worn the suit. He had been smaller, skinnier, there was a distinct difference there if you knew to look that told you this was someone new. But when Jason put it on…

Tim wouldn't even look at him. He made an excuse to stay in the cave, claiming that it was league members only and shoved a comm in Jason's ear. "Breathe." He reminded him into the comm. "The worst of it will be immediate, and then the meeting will start. "

"Right." He grumbled trying to be comforted by that, "Just have to get there." Jason told himself but Tim answered like it was to him.

"Bruce knew you could do this." he said.

He snorted. "Then why are you in my ear?"

"He also knew you'd need help." Jason swore that he heard a smile in his voice, but he didn't have time to think about it as the doors opened into the meeting room and the Justice League sat before him.

And Jason froze. He swallowed hard and told himself that he had to move but the way that they were looking at him- the silence that encompassed the room- made it very apparent that they had just been talking about him. He looked to Clark first. They had never had an amazing relationship, but he had been kind to Jason, said things to make him think and gave him chances that he hadn't deserved. Now Clark was looking at him with his jaw slack, his eyes concerned as he looked him over thirstily, recognition hitting him like a ton of bricks while the rest of the group sat frozen still. Tim was saying something in his ear but he didn't hear it. His heart was hammering in throat drowning out all other noise. He closed his eyes. _Two steps forward and the hard part is over,_ Bruce's voice washed over him, startling him into taking the steps that were commanded and the elevator shut behind him, causing the rest of the League to step back into action.

Clark was the first to speak, meeting him at the edge of the table with a strong hand for him to grasp and keep himself steady. "I'm glad you're here," he told him like he really meant it. That was what brought him back into the reality of the situation.

"Back at 'cha," he told him with a hard nod and followed him to the open seat next to Clark at the other end of the table.

The meeting went by quickly and most everyone was able to keep their glances to a minimum as they spoke. They listened as Jason went over his reports, allowed him input in their cases and Tim's when he prompted Jason to speak up. But Diana's eyes never left him. He stared back at her, waiting for her to take off or charge across the table to hit him. But when the meeting was over, she got up and left as the others broke into their own conversations. "That was better than I expected from her," Clark said, pulling Jason's attention back. "She will come around eventually." He told him as they stood. "I just think that the suit caught her off guard. You look more like him than any of us ever thought about."

Jason swallowed hard and followed him to the elevator. "I have a new suit but it didn't fit. I thought the hood would just-" he stopped as Clark held up a hand.

"It was the right choice," Clark agreed. "Give her time. Until then, welcome to the team," he said patting his back, and giving him a warm and genuine smile that Jason could not help but to return. He thought back to when he was twelve, sitting on the edge of the roof. He thought about stealing the tires off the batmobile and how many stupid mistakes he had made after that. He thought about the fighting, the killing, the running, the battles that he had fought on the wrong side- and for the first time Jason saw this burden as a chance. A chance to make all of that right. A chance to learn how to fly.


	2. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

Tim listened to the meeting and took notes. He'd done the same things a few times for Bruce. No one really knew about those though. It hadn't happened too often. The first time had been because Bruce was in the middle of working a case. He'd thought that he was close to solving it so when he'd gone to the meeting he had spent the entire time mentally working the case while Tim took notes. His favorite time though was a night when Bruce had been out late with Dick. They'd had trouble with a few guys right before the end of patrol that had ended up lasting until well after dawn. Bruce had been nearly asleep when he had zeta'd to the tower. He could still hear the quiet snores as Bruce slept through the meeting, the cowl's microphone was turned off so no one else heard it. Tim was pretty sure that Clark had noticed, but he'd never said anything. He seemed to agree that Bruce sleeping was high on the list of things not to stop from happening. He'd listened and shouted Bruce's name into the mic when it was his turn. To Bruce's credit he'd stood up and covered the status of Gotham like he'd been awake the entire time. When he'd gotten back to the cave he'd just pulled off the cowl and passed out on the cot.

He glanced up out of habit when the door opened and Batman walked in. His heart leapt in his chest and Tim had to force himself to look away. To swallow that hope. There was no use in letting it grow. Jason was smiling. Even with the cowl, he looked more at ease than he'd seen him in years. A sour feeling filled his stomach. Jason looked like he belonged there, belonged as Batman. He'd seen it earlier when he had smiled at him in his new suit. He was settling into himself.

Tim knew that Jason was the right choice. He knew that he could do it, could be Batman. He stared at the computer. He hated himself for it, but he didn't want that. Not yet. The more Jason settled into himself the less he'd need him. He'd lose his place in this too.

He coughed and pulled up a few of the files he'd pulled from the tower database. "This might become a bigger issue." He stood and let Jason take the chair at the main computer. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Jason pulled off the cowl and gloves. "If I were him, I'd just wait for the next shipment to arrive and then attack."

Jason turned. "Why didn't you say anything during the meeting?" He clicked and flipped through the pages of the file. "We could stop it before they attacked."

"The league can't be everywhere at once. I could be wrong. If I am and you'd said for them to be there, how would that go over?" he shook his head. "Just be ready if it happens."

"At least tell me next time. That way I can decide."

Tim bit back the yes sir that bubbled up and nodded instead before he headed for one of Dick's training rooms. He'd never been one to fight through his issues. Instead he took to the trampoline, or on truly bad days the trapeze. He liked the subtle burn of his muscles. He bounced idly. Until his thighs began to burn. He'd always loved this room. Dick had brought him here to teach him how to move. He'd swing through the air while Dick laughed and yelled to him. He'd known since the moment he decided to become Robin that he'd never be as good. He didn't have the love for the air that Dick had. He flipped, his feet sinking into the bed. His favorite part was the landing. His feet finding their purchase. When his feet left the ground, or more often the roof, his thoughts were on the next landing. He knew the angle, the time to pull and where his feet would hit. He needed that security. He needed the next step. He needed to know where to go next.

He didn't know where he stood. Another of his fathers was dead. He flipped, fighting the knot in his stomach. His little brother hated him. They'd never been close. They fought more than they talked, but it didn't matter. Damian was his to protect and it was his fault that he was hurting. His team was gone, already replaced. He flipped, form sloppy. He could practically hear Dick telling him to focus.

And Jason. He'd always known where he was with Jason. Until he hadn't. His feet sunk into the bed of the trampoline. As he flew into the air his mind drifted. He'd been tired. Too tired. All he had wanted was to walk into Jason's arms and let go. To be with him. To tell him what he'd realized. To finally put words to what they were.

Tim stumbled, foot too far on the edge. He bounced unsteady until he sat down on the edge of the trampoline. His heart hammering in his chest. His breaths coming too fast. He stared at his hands as they trembled. "Fuck." He had to get out of there. He couldn't do it again.

Jason looked up as he rushed through the cave. "Timbo?" he winced at the nickname but didn't stop. He heard the chair roll back and knew he didn't have much time before Jason would be following after him. The fact that Jason had to change out of the suit gave him the time he'd need. He ran up the stairs.

Dick was walking in the front door as he reached it. He hadn't been back since the day they read the letters. "Hey are you okay?"

Tim looked over his shoulder, back at the door to the cave. He had to go. He nodded and pushed past him.

"Tim?" Jason called as he stepped into the hall. He saw Dick turn, eyes going flinty.

Tim grabbed Dick's elbow and pulled him out the door. He couldn't let them explode at each other. Not because of him. "I need your help with something."

Dick drove them to his apartment. He was grateful that he'd brought the bike. It gave him time to think, to regroup. He knew that Dick was just waiting for the right time, he was good at that. They rode up the elevator in silence and Tim opened the door. He didn't think Dick had ever walked through the front door- the balcony, sure.

"How's Bludhaven?" he asked as he popped a cup in his coffee maker. He could manage putting a cup under the spout.

"It's fine. It's Bludhaven. You know. Damian's been spending all his time with the Titans. I told him he could take time, but you know him." Tim nodded, his throat tightening again. "How's Jaybird?" Dick asked finally, managing to not sound completely bitter.

"He's doing great. He looks just like him. You could almost forget." He bit his lip.

Dick made a wounded noise and all of a sudden Tim was wrapped in his arms. Dick shook slightly, fighting for even breaths. Before they had left for the cemetery he had watched Dick in Bruce's office. He'd had his head down on the desk as he sobbed, his shoulders shaking as he tried to stay quiet. He had kept calm around the rest of them. A pillar of strength for them to rely on. He was still trying. Tim wanted to say something to let Dick know that he didn't have to. But he was pretty sure that Dick needed that. He needed to comfort his family, because he found his own comfort in it. He gripped the back of Dick's shirt. His eyes closed tightly as breathed in the cologne on Dick's shirt. It was the same kind Bruce wore when he had a function to attend. He wondered if Dick even realized.

"I'm sorry for how I reacted." Dick said quietly.

"You shouldn't be apologizing to me," Tim added, letting his hands drop. Dick let go of him a few seconds later. He stepped back. "Thanks for the ride. Now go apologize. And be a fucking adult about it."

"Language," Dick said with a laugh. "You've been hanging out with Jay too much." Dick hugged him again before leaving. He shut the door and leaned against it. He had. He could feel the line blurring. He looked toward his bed. Then collapsed onto the couch. He just needed a nap. He'd be fine after his nap. Bruce wouldn't be dead. Damian wouldn't hate him. He wouldn't still be in love with Jason. Everything would be better when he woke up.

There was only Alfred by the time he got back up to the manor. Tim had run before he had even had a chance to sit down and talk to him about the meeting. He had taken notes, written in large messy handwriting that was overly loopy and pressed so hard into the paper that Jason would know what it had said with his eyes closed. Tim had been very fond of leaving Jason notes before they broke up. It had started before they were even dating. If he got to the crime scene first, he would leave a note for Jason to find, rubbing it in his face- and vice versa. It was only natural that it passed into their personal life. Jason missed those notes more than anything. He missed waking up to a piece of carefully folded paper on the pillow next to him. He missed the the way they felt and how they made him smile, and the gaping hole that was left when he stopped getting those notes. The hole he had been trying to pack for five years.

He didn't blame Tim for running. He didn't know _why_ he had to run, but he didn't need to. They had spent more time together in the past two weeks than they had spent for the full two years before that- and even Jason had to admit that it hurt. He closed the notebook and tossed it into the drawer next to the desk, not wanting to go down that road today, and pushed back from the desk. There were still five open cases that he needed to look at, but the cough in the doorway told him that may not happen tonight.

Dick wasn't looking at him exactly. His eyes were set just to the side of Jason, hands in his pockets. He wasn't smiling but he didn't look angry either, and that was just about as good as they ever got. Jason waited. He didn't feel like being the first one to reveal his cards and Dick reluctantly stepped up to the plate. "How was the meeting?" he asked finally.

Jason crossed his arms and leaned back further in the chair. "Not horrible." He offered him with his own frown. "How is being a suffocating asshat?"

He could practically see the vein in Dick's forehead twitch as he forced himself not to roll his eyes. "Okay," he nodded and fully walked into the cave. He leaned against the desk and finally fixed on Jason, pursing his lips. "I deserve that."

Jason relaxed at that, the exhaustion that came after the panic he had been feeling all week hitting him hard. "Well if you aren't here to tell me I'm an undeserving brat… why are you here?" he asked finally.

Dick winced at that, no doubt thinking of the last time they were standing in this room. "I'm sorry." He told Jason, "I wasn't being fair to you. I was… angry at Bruce for dying and scared about letting go of," he gestured to the cave. "But I know you didn't want this. And I'm sorry for taking that out on you." Jason didn't say anything so Dick pushed off the desk and looked around. "Have you patrolled as Batman yet?"

They spent the rest of the day in the training rooms alternating between beating the crap out of each other and fighting about the way that Bruce had moved. Dick was too deep into his rose colored glasses, seeing Bruce as nothing but smoke and grace. He didn't have what Jason had, the years of experience that he had hunting Batman, studying the careful force he put into each hit. The persuasion and the silence. He had always thought that Dick invested too much time in set up, Bruce didn't need set up- he just moved.

They patrolled together that night when Tim didn't come back to the cave, painting Gotham in streaks of red and blue as they took turns jumping further and further over rooftops. He had forgotten how fun this was. When he had been Robin, before he had died and come back to see his spot had been passed on. Bruce would send him off with Dick in the early days, insisting that what he had to do was too much for Jason to handle and that he wasn't ready. He had wanted Jason to pick up Dick's habits, become the same boy that he was losing - even going far enough to have him dye his hair, the streak of gray from the damage still falling into his eyes. Bruce had wanted Robin, the Robin he'd first gone into business with, who was comfortable and safe. But Jason had never been interested in Robin. He'd always wanted to be like Batman.

Dick only stayed for a couple of days, but as much as Jason hated to admit it, he was glad to have him around. Dick had been his first teacher, and as much as he hated him for it he also learned more from Dick than he had anyone else. By the time that he left, Jason was moving more like Bruce than he ever had.

He spent the rest of the week in the basement of Wayne Enterprise with Lucius working on the new types of bullets and adjusting the suit to fit without hindering his movements. They had just gotten everything finished and stuffed into a briefcase when he realised that he hadn't seen Tim since Dick had gotten there. He hadn't thought enough about it, using the time to decompress and try to fit into his new position. He knew that it was stupid, and he wouldn't admit it at gunpoint, but there was a part of him- the part of him that had never gotten over Tim- that thought if he could pull this off, then everything would work out. Batman was the kind of person who deserved to be with someone like Tim.

"Mr. Todd," the receptionist smiled sweetly at him when he stepped into the lobby. He clenched the briefcase tighter and smiled at her as he walked over, "All done for the day?" she asked.

"I have been bothering Lucius too much today," he told her, pulling out his best impression of Dick, "He kicked me out."

She laughed too much but didn't stop him as he started off again, "Oh! And tell Tim that we all hope he feels better soon."

Jason knocked three times, "Tim?" he said loudly into the door. "I know you are in there." He waited but there wasn't any sound of approach. He would take that as a sign of the apartment being empty if it were anyone else. "I'll take the door off if you don't open it." He continued, giving Tim a minute as the door clicked open and he was glaring out at him.

"What do you want?" he asked sounding annoyed, his face only half exposed in the crack of the doorway.

Jason put his hands on his hips and looked over what little of him that he could see. "You don't sound sick." he accused him.

"Well I am." Tim told him too quickly and walked back into the apartment, leaving the door cracked.

Jason walked in after him and shut the door. "With what?" he asked.

"A cold."

"A cold that has kept you out of work for seven days?" Tim stopped in the living room and turned around to stare at Jason, not quite glaring but it was too hard to call anything else. He was in flannel pants and a T-shirt that Jason was pretty sure was his, looking like he wanted to be with absolutely anyone else- but Jason knew better than to leave Tim alone. Tim was so hard on himself. He was sure that whatever he was upset about, if he kept sitting around in the dark with nothing but himself, it would just get worse. Jason sighed, "C'mon." he told him heading back to the door.

"Come where?" Tim asked even more annoyed.

"If you insist on pretending you are sick, then you have to do it at the manor so Alfred can at least get the benefit of taking care of you." He opened the door and turned back to Tim who was fumbling for something to say. "I can carry you if you want." He offered with a smirk.

Tim turned back to his room. "I warned you." He had a second to tense before Jason was picking him up and hanging him over his shoulder. "God Nugget, do you even eat?" Tim's face heated up. It had been years since he'd heard that nickname. Jason swung the door open.

He kicked out feet pushing against the frame. "Fine. Fine. I'll walk." Jason let him down with a shit eating grin that he knew too well. "Were you really going to carry me like some caveman? Me Jay. Me carry." He shoved him and grabbed his laptop shoving it in a bag as he reset the alarm. "I guess it's appropriate since you live in a cave." He looked up when Jason didn't respond. He was just smiling down at him. "What?" he snapped shifting the strap on his bag.

"Nothing." Jason was practically buzzing with energy. He followed him to the garage. The Ferrari was sitting in his spot. He smiled and slid into the passenger's seat. Jason hopped over the door, knee banging against the steering wheel and ruining his attempt at being cool. Tim snickered into his shoulder as he reached for the seat belt. "Shut up." Jason started the car and backed out. The weather was dreary. He felt the fog cling to his skin as soon as they left the garage, but the wind whipped it away once they got out onto the roads to the manor.

"Tonight's the night." Jason looked over to him, eyes alight with excitement and a little fear. He knew that too well. His first patrol as Robin, Red Robin, mission with the Titans. All of them brought that same fizzy feeling in his stomach.

"You need backup?" he asked.

Jason looked at him like he was an idiot. "I just want to show off my slick new suit." The soft smile directed at him belied the cocky words.

"I guess someone should be there to witness the new Batman getting his ass kicked."

"They'll be too busy admiring the new duds to fight back." Jason made a kung fu noise and karate chopped the air. Tim laughed and they kept their chirping up until they were parking the car.

Alfred was waiting with a cup of tea and a bottle of medicine. He winced. "Your illness was exaggerated I take it?" he took the tea.

"I just needed some rest. I'm right as rain."

"That is the weirdest saying. Why is rain right?" Jason asked as he walked past them. He listened to Alfred explain the history of the saying as they walked up into the manor.

Alfred was making Jason help him with dinner. They had made some agreement. He offered his own help but Jason and Alfred had both refused. Alfred shooed him away and pointed to the stove as he turned to Jason. He shrugged and headed down to the cave.

He stared at the new suit where it hung in its case across from Bruce's. He studied the overall look. It wasn't too different. The suit itself had only really changed its color scheme. He ran his finger along the red outline of the bat. He'd tried to talk Jason out of the jacket, but he'd insisted. The holsters on the belt were another thing he wouldn't budge on. Lucius had raved about Jason's work on the cartridges when he'd checked in the other evening. The cowl itself hadn't changed at all.

"Do your job and protect him okay?" he said to the faceless figure before him. He looked over as his eyes caught the reflection in the glass. He blinked and stepped across the grating. "You did your best." He flipped the switch and Bruce's case went dark.

"Timbo. Come on. Dinner's ready." He jumped at Jason's voice from the top of the stairs.

Jason stared at him until he started to eat. He glared back at him as he finished the plate. Alfred told him about Dick and Damian. The youngest hadn't been back to the manor. He could hear the worry in the butler's voice. He wanted to say something to appease him, but he didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry. He'll be back. You never gave up on me and here I am." Jason passed Alfred, both of their plates in hand.

He made eye contact with Alfred before they both turned and stared at Jason. "That is a terrible example." Tim deadpanned. Alfred coughed hiding a laugh.

"Shut up," Jason said. He looked a little put out. Like he was sure that was the right thing to say and didn't understand where he'd gone wrong. "Are you just going to sit there all night, or are you coming?"

"You can tell Dick I won't be here during the day. Damian will come then." He pat Alfred and jogged off after Jason before the older man could say anything.

"I am the night."

"I _am_ the night."

"I am _the_ night."

"I'm a _loser_." Tim cut in. He'd gotten changed and caught Jason looking at himself in a mirror.

Jason flipped him off. "I was just testing the modulator."

"Right," he drew out skeptically. "You ready, Batman?"

Jason looked at his reflection. "I'm Batman." He stared at Jason for a long second. Then laughed. Jason ran at him and Tim jumped on his bike before he could reach him.

He listened to Jason's grumbling complaints through the comm. It didn't feel like he was patrolling with Batman. Bruce was quiet unless he was giving orders. Tim had always been the same way, except with Jason. They'd always talked when they worked together. Their comms were geared to each other's frequencies just as they were now. Barbara had been furious when she'd found out he'd changed it so they could have a private line. Then she'd reworked the entire system so they all could control who they spoke to. It had helped her manage the extended family and she was probably glad to not have to listen to Dick's incessant chatter the whole evening.

This wasn't Bruce's Batman though. He watched Jason step out of the Batmobile from the rooftop above it. He looked up at him, lenses flashing red. This was Jason's.

Jason hated that he loved this so much. He moved with an ease that he had never felt before, not hesitating at the edges, just charging forward and fading into the darkness around them. He felt alive. Alive in a way that he hadn't felt since he had died. And in diving over the screaming night of Gotham, he couldn't help but wonder if this exact feeling was the real reason he had come back to the city that made him. He could have gone anywhere. He had. He tried his hand as an assassin and really tried to fall in with the league- but his heart was always in this city. In Gotham.

Tim didn't mind when he talked. He talked to himself mostly, but it was nice to know that someone was listening to him as he muttered on and on about the suit, dexterity and weirdness of everything. He dropped into an alley on a drug deal and silently tore it apart, the look on their faces when he pulled his gun would have been laughable if he was still in the hood. But the cowl was different. He shot and a wire exploded as it hit the man's chest, tying his arms to his side's hard. "What should I say? 'Stay in school?', 'You aren't you on drugs?'," he asked Tim when he fell in next to him and they started at the poor kid who was shaking and begging for them not to kill him. Idiot.

Tim looked at him with his signature mix of annoyed and amused. "I think you'll need to get with Nightwing if you want to talk about bad banter."

"All he'll do is throw one liners at me. You, on the other hand will tell me how bad _mine_ are," he told him, dragging the kid to the mouth of the alley where sirens were starting to pour from and met him back at the end.

Jason fumbled around in his jacket until he found the grappling hook and Tim watched as the first cop hit the end of the alley. "I've always been a fan of silent and brooding," he offered.

Jason shrugged and wrapped his arm around Tim's waist, aiming the hook at the top of the building. "Noted." He muttered and let the gun fly them to the top before the cops had a chance to draw on them.

Alfred brought the news paper into the cave for him the next afternoon when he had finally been able to pull himself out of bed. He dropped it off with a plate of sandwiches and ice tea on the little table outside the training room, lips perked just enough to pulled Jason's attention as he left. The entire front page of the Gazette was a photo and a huge blocky headline. The picture too blurry to clearly make out but he saw the outline of the cowl and Robin's wings flying over the city. _**THE BAT IS BACK**_.

He flipped through it quickly, too anxious to take his time, and after the initial skim he went back to the top of the article to go through it again;

 _If you happened to be looking out the window last night, you may have caught a glimpse of something miraculous. After over a month of crime crawling back to the top of the charts, it seems that the dark shadow that watches over Gotham has finally returned. Several eyewitnesses have stepped forward saying that they did indeed lay eyes on the Batman, though they may not have known at first from his new look. And though we may not know where he went or why he had returned, I think it is safe to say that all of Gotham will sleep easier tonight knowing that the Batman is back watching over the streets._

It went on.

He shoved a sandwich in his mouth before he went back to training, a warm soreness filling him like a purpose that was nice to feel again. He felt good and strong but he knew that if he wanted to pull this off, and really pull it off, he needed to move more like Bruce. He pulled up old videos and watched him, the dance of his attacks never obvious but not brutal enough to be called anything else. He spent three hours mimicking his movement, feeling the way that Ras had taught him flow through his body again. He closed his eyes let his muscles take over, peace falling over him while he danced across the mat. He forced himself not to stiffen when he heard a rustle to his right and when it got close enough he reached out at it and threw it with all he had down onto the mat.

Damian blinked up at him in wide eyed fury and Jason grinned as Dick laughed off to the side. "First point is mine." He taunted and Damian shoved himself up in determination. They sparred for an hour before Alfred called them up to dinner, which was good for Jason because he was pretty sure that Damian would have insisted they continue until he had enough points to win. They ate in light conversation, mostly Dick and Alfred chatting about nothing. Damian just kept glancing at Jason, looking like he wanted to say something but he never let up.

They were heading back down to the cave when Tim came home and stopped dead in the entryway when he saw Damian leading the way. They stared at each other for a minute before Damian turned back to the cave and Dick walked out of the kitchen to wrap Tim in an obnoxious hug.

Patrolling with the family wasn't as easy as patrolling with just Tim. He kept most of his commentary to himself because he knew that everyone would revolt if he clogged up the frequency. He felt uncomfortable. Everyone looked at him to call the shots and when he did give an order they always seemed to second guess it before falling in line.

It was exhausting.

They got back to the cave just as dawn hit, and Jason was pretty sure that he was about to pass out. He peeled off the cowl but stood behind Tim at the computer in his suit, bouncing the events back and forth between them until the notes were finished. He headed toward the cases and changed, not noticing Dick leaning against the wall until he was almost completely stripped. "Enjoying the show?" he asked sarcastically.

Dick chose to ignore that and nodded back towards Tim at the computer. "You make a good team." He told him, a little flash in his eyes that told Jason what he already knew. Dick knew about them. It wasn't something they ever came out and said to the family, but he knew that Dick knew. He was good at that crap.

Jason looked back at the case and focused on putting the suit away. He shrugged. He wasn't going to get too attached here. He knew that Tim was only helping him because that was what Bruce wanted. Jason was willing to bet that if he could get his hands on the letter Bruce had given Tim it would say as much. This was temporary. And as much as he wanted to believe that he could change that, that if he was a good Batman then he would finally be good enough as himself for Tim- Jason knew better than to hope for anything better than what he had right now.

Dick didn't push it, he left him to get changed and shower and then he walked back up to the manor. It didn't matter though, the damage of the comment had already been done. Jason had been so good. He hadn't thought about it. About Tim. About kissing Tim. About loving him and having him and being with him like… that. He hung back in the hall, watching Tim as he climbed the entrance stairs to the bedrooms. His hair was wet and he looked exhausted. Jason wanted so badly to follow him, to hold him and make sure that he slept through the night. To put his face in his wet hair and see if he still used the same vanilla shampoo.

But Jason just watched him, making a mental note to punch Dick in the nuts when they sparred tomorrow.

Tim wanted nothing more than to just climb into his bed at the manor and fall asleep, but he had a meeting in a few hours that he couldn't miss it. He'd already pushed it back when he had been sick. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door with a yawn. He got back to the penthouse with enough time to shower and eat. He could maybe close his eyes while he was showering. He'd fallen asleep once while showering. Jason had found him slumped against the wall dead asleep, water still flowing over him. He smiled at the memory. Jason had given him shit for weeks. He had also made it his mission to make sure that Tim got sleep. Most of the time he accomplished it by hugging him and refusing to let go until he passed out. It had been some of the best sleep he'd gotten in years. He washed his hair a little more rougher than necessary as he forced the wistful feeling away. He'd broken up with Jason for a reason. A reason, if he was being honest, he'd doubted from the moment Jason had stormed out.

He dried off and checked his bruises from patrol. He wrapped his wrist in an ice pack and wandered through his rooms getting ready for the day. Once he had his coffee he slipped the wrap off and grabbed his bag.

He slept through lunch and slept the entire drive to the manor. Alfred placed a cup in his hands as soon as he walked in the door. He sighed as he drained the cup. He headed for the kitchen for another. Alfred clucked at him, but poured another. He sat at the table and sipped it.

"Thanks, I didn't get any real sleep. Where is everyone?"

"Masters Jason and Damian are sparring. Damian has challenged Jason to some competition they both know, but that makes no sense to me. Master Dick has gone to see Miss Gordon." he glanced at the clock.

"I'm going to try and get a nap in. Will you wake me when it's time?" Alfred looked all to pleased as he headed up to his room. He stripped out of his clothes and fell face first onto the pillow. His eyes drifted shut and he was asleep.

He woke up flailing. Jason caught his arm before it collided with his face. "Sorry," he said tugging his knees up to his chest as he caught his breath.

"Looked like you were having a bad dream," Jason said softly. He knew that was the closest Jason would get to asking if he wanted to talk about it. They had woken each other up enough with their nightmares that he knew the routine. He looked up at him and shook his head. "Dinner is ready," Jason offered after a moment. He had looked like he was actually going to push it for once.

Damian was sitting next to Dick, eyes locked on the plate of food before him. He sat down across from Dick. Dick looked between them, frowning. Tim knew that eventually he would try to push them to get over this. He shook his head when Dick looked back to him and looked like he'd finally decided what he wanted to say. It wasn't time yet. Damian finished first and mumbled something before heading for the cave. Dick left his plate not long after. Jason fiddled with his food before taking a bite.

"You know it wasn't your fault right?" Jason asked.

"He needs someone to blame for a while. I'm okay with it being me." He picked up his plate and left it in the sink.

"Tim." Jason said, he looked back at him. "It wasn't." he just turned and headed for the cave.

"They are just thugs. We can take them," Dick said through the comms.

"Thugs with machine guns," Tim pointed out.

" _A_ machine gun. We could already have them in cuffs."

"Batman said to wait," he reminded Dick. They were waiting for Jason and Damian to clear the warehouse. Jason had picked up more people on the cowl than they were expecting. One of the men started walking to the warehouse door and Dick moved. He hissed his name, but followed after. Nightwing dropped onto the man with the gun. He landed beside him. There was a glint of metal and he pushed Dick to the side as the muzzle of another gun erupted.

"Fuck," he cursed hitting the wall of the alley hard. Dick was looking at him from where he had ducked behind a dumpster.

"Red?" Batman called over the comms. He pressed his hand to his side and his glove came back wet.

"Could use a little help," he said and risked a glance out of the alley. He darted back as bullets rattled into the brick by his head. He pressed harder to his side. Dick looked at him his eyes darting from his face to where his hand was pressed. Gunfire erupted again. Dick darted across the alley. "I'm fine. Help them," he said when Dick pulled his hand away.

"I'm getting Red out of here," Dick said pressing Tim's hand back to the wound.

Alfred was finishing the last of the stitches when Jason returned. He moved, but Alfred forced him back down to the bed.

"What happened?"

"They were going after you. So I did what I thought was best."

"What you thought was best?" Jason roared. He winced. "I told you to wait."

"Bruce would've-"

"I'm Batman now. Not him." He could see Dick's anger rising to match Jason's. Alfred finished the last of the stitches and he pushed off the bed. Jason and Dick were shouting at each other. He'd seen this anger before. He stepped between Jason and Dick.

"Jay. I'm fine." He cupped the back of his neck. Jason's eyes fell on him. "I'm fine," he saw the fear, and watched it fade away as he rubbed his thumb against Jason's hairline.

Jason's eyes closed. "You're fine?" Jason breathed.

To say that Jason was livid would have been an understatement. Damian was silent the entire ride back, watching him out of the corner of his eye like he was afraid that he might have to take him down if this went too far. There was a time where the thought of Robin taking out Batman would have been laughable to him but now that he was in the cowl he couldn't help but think about how glad he was that there was a Robin was there. He had never been this furious and he had no idea what he was about to do no matter how he came at it. Bruce had trained all of them through the years not to take on his burden when he left, but to stop him if he took things too far. Jason was pretty sure that he could reach the moon at that moment.

Only Dick was in the cave, pacing when Jason jumped out of the batmobile, ignoring the pain where he's been stabbed in his left thigh as he threw the cowl onto the desk. He shot Damian a nervous look as Jason stormed past him to look through the Medbay window where Alfred was stitching up Tim. The wound was shallow. The graze just big enough for the needle, but that did nothing to calm him down.

He turned on Dick, his fists curled up at his sides and he had to force himself not to draw his gun and hit him in the same spot. "What happened?" he demanded.

Dick looked unfazed by his question, defense rising up with the red on his neck, "They were coming after you." He told him. Obviously. Jason shook his head in a silent 'And?' so Dick continued, "So I did what I thought was best." He told him like that should have been apparent.

Of course. "What _you_ thought was best." He bit at the words tasting metal in his teeth. Of course. Golden boy always new better. Better than him. Better than Tim- Better than Batman. Officer Perfect always a step ahead of everyone else. "I told you to _wait."_ He shouted.

Dick recoiled as if he had been slapped. "Bruce would have-"

"I am Batman now. Not him." he told him harshly. Maybe too harshly, but anger was still heating him and he was so tired of being undermined. "If you want to make the calls then go back to Buldhaven. Gotham is mine. And if you are going to patrol here, you do it by _my_ rules."

"Gotham is Bruce's." Dick shot back at him, but his emotions were getting the best of him too. His eyes glazed and the red went up his entire face, "He gave everything he was to this city! He was this city, you have no right-"

"Bruce is dead, Dick." The man flinched at the final word but Jason pushed on. "He died. It was horrible. And he left Gotham to _me_. I am just as much a part of this city as he was. I was raised here in the thick of everything that he was against. And more than you, or Tim or even Damian- I know what it is to love and hate this city and to be a part of something as terrible and beautiful as Gotham. He knew that I could do this," his voice cracked, "After everything, that this was what he could trust me with. Bruce left it to _me_." He swallowed hard on the lump and watched at the color started falling out of Dick's face, " I didn't ask for this. I didn't want this. I didn't even get to go to Bruce's fucking funeral because Jason Todd died ten years ago! I am a ghost, Dick. But I am going to do whatever it takes to keep this safe, because that was what Bruce wanted from me. So why do you do what he asked of _you_ , follow your fucking orders- and stop acting like _I_ killed him!"

Tim was in front of him before Dick could say anything else, hand cupping the back of his neck and he pulled Jason's forehead down to press against his. "Jay, I'm fine. " he told him and Jason could feel his lip tremble in frustration and fear before he bit down on it to keep it still. He looked into Tim eyes, hard and soft as he soothed him, his thumb rubbing calm into his skin. "I'm fine," he said again, his voice softer as his too blue eyes neared into him.

Jason let his eyes close, feeling so relieved and so exhausted in the moment that he thought his knees might give out. The cave was silent and Tim's hand was warm as Bruce's voice hit him again from right over his shoulder. _He is fine,_ it told him- and Jason swore that he could almost feel Bruce's hand squeezing his shoulder, _your plan would have worked. This is not your fault._

"You're fine." He repeated quietly. Letting his eyes open and Tim nodded against his forehead. Tim offered him a tiny smile, one that could only be seen if you knew where to look. Jason let out a hard breath and put his hand over Tim's dragging it off of his neck, but not letting go of him, and turned back to Dick who was watching them uncomfortably like he had walked in on a very private moment. "I have a League meeting tomorrow." He told him as calmly as he could. "I don't think you should be here when I get back."

"Jay-" he heard Dick call after him but he was already dragging Tim out of the cave and back up to the manor where there was better light.

Once they got the sitting room, Jason held him at an arm's length and looked him over. He was still half dressed and his suit was peeled down to expose his chest where the bullet had lodged itself under his kevlar. He looked pale, but other than that, Tim really did look mostly okay. Jason swallowed hard and let go of him, taking a step back so that he could think more clearly. "I asked Clark if you could sit in on the meeting tomorrow." He said finally. "I figured that you would listen in anyway, and seeing as we're supposed to be the dynamic duo…" he trailed off.

Tim was watching him too closely, watching him like he was worried the Jason might crack if something pushed him too hard and, quite frankly, he felt like he might too. There was something wrong here. Something that he didn't know how to say. He knew that he wasn't just imagining Bruce, but even just thinking that… how was he supposed to bring that up? He watched Tim until he nodded and pursed his lips, walking back towards the cave. "I'll take care of everything tonight. Go to bed."

He dreamed that he was back in the burning building. His legs were broken, head pounding and his arms bound in front of him. He had fucked up. Totally fucked himself by coming alone. Jason knew that now, only it was too late to do anything about it. He stared the other body, the broken, inflamed stillhouse of his birth mother that was now nothing more than a corpse. He had trusted her so completely. Over his foster mom. Over Bruce. And all because of what? Because they shared blood. Her blood that was now swirling with his on the floor between them, soaking his already heat filled vision in the crimson paint of his biggest mistake. He was dead. No one was coming to save him. He was going to die alone like the crime alley trash that he had always been.

 _Jason._

Alone and insane.

 _Jason, you aren't insane._

Insane and aware that this was what he deserved.

 _Jason, stop this and look at me!_

His eyes flew open just as the image of Bruce holding him by his limp shoulders filled his head, making him gasp and paw at his chest where is heart was threatening to break out of his skin. He hadn't even remembered falling asleep. He had been dizzy and warm and then he was just… awake. The room looked oddly bright for the early morning and when he got out of bed he realised that his sheets had been soaked in blood. Jason gave himself a once over, only finding scars under his fingers and shrugged it off. His suit had been left in the corner of his room by the door where he had abandon it the night before. He's probably just gotten it on him. He was fine.

He yanked off his sheets and shoved them into the basket at the corner of the room, grabbing his suit so he could take it to Alfred to be patched up. The manor was still quiet as he made his way down to the laundry room and shoved the red soaked sheets in the washer, pouring a cap full of bleach in before he shut the lid and hit start. He watched the sheets turn for a moment trying to remember what he had been dreaming about when he woke up, but the only thing that came to him was Bruce, holding him by the shoulders and shaking him.

It was a relief to have Tim in the elevator with him, riding up to the top of the tower with a little more ease than the last time. He felt less like an imposter with his own suit on, no cape to hold him back and pockets that he could stuff his fisted hands into. And with Tim by his side, he felt a strange sort of validation that he hadn't really thought he'd needed.

Tim hadn't said anything about their intimate moment the night before and Jason had decided not to bring it up. He knew that any conversation they had about it would only drive a wedge between them and, as Dick had so willingly demonstrated, Jason really needed a friend in all of this. He hadn't seen Dick when they left for the meeting, but Damian had been in the cave to see them off so he knew that he was somewhere close by. He wondered if Dick would actually be gone by the time they got back. He wondered if that was what he had really wanted.

But Jason didn't have to think about it for too long. The elevator doors opened up to the already filled council room that once again went silent as they walked in. There were more muttering this time as he made his way without hesitation to Clark's side, Tim trailing easily behind him, taking the seat that they had added. Clark smiled at the pair of them and nodded in the mumbled treating of the rest of them except for Diana who looked like she had a horrible smell stuck under her nose.

He tried not to stare but it was difficult. She hadn't been happy about the last meeting either, but this time she looked as though she would jump across the table and stab him through the chest if he tried to move. He focused on Tim, taking careful notes in his untidy sprawl until it was his turn to talk, the entire table turning to him in anticipation. He went over his latest reports and the the notes he had made about an open file that Tim had found in the League database from a few years back. It had fallen into a dead end, but they had found something that looked a lot like the same workings in a case they had recently stumbled on. Diana snorted when he brought it up and Jason clenched his fist on the table, turning to look at her, "Is there something you would like to add?" he asked.

But Diana was looking at Clark with her arms crossed across her chest. "How long," she asked, "Are we going to pretend that this _child_ is a part of this team."

You could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. "Diana," Clark started in a low mutter, but she cut him off.

"We have all been thinking it." She stopped him and looked down the rest of the table. "Have we not? Bruce had good intentions, but his heart was always too big when it came to you." She accused Jason with a look of superiority, "He let his guilt cloud his judgement. This is not a job that you were meant to handle."

"Diana." Clark said again but harder, his hands were in fists now too. Jason could feel Tim staring at him but he didn't looked away from the Amazonian who was still staring him down.

"The way you wear those guns is shameful." She spat at Jason. "After everything that Bruce taught you. What he stood for and what he went through, he would be disgusted."

 _Diana_.

And he wasn't sure what made him do it, but he pulled one of the guns out of his holster and fired. The entire table was on its feet as the net wrapped itself around Diana, pushing her back into the wall with an ump, but not enough to hurt her. She blinked at Jason shocked and he pulled out the clip and handed it to Clark. "I made these." He told her and looked down at the rest of them. "I made these bullets so that they incapacitate but don't kill anyone, but I have killed people. I'm proud of that," he said to them but looked only at Tim. "I fight with these guns knowing that I would do a lot more damage if you gave me a dagger. If it comes to that I'll use it, but until then- I'm just doing the best that I can with what I have." He walked over to Diana and yanked the All Caste daggers out if his boot to cut her free. She stared at him but he turned back to Tim. "What was I saying?" he asked.

Tim didn't hesitate. "The insignia." He told him typing something into the main computer and it came up on the table as everyone moved back together.

"I can't believe you netted Wonder Woman." Jason looked over to him. He snorted at the terror on Jason's face.

"I netted Wonder Woman," Jason repeated in awe.

"Her face," Tim tried to stifle the giggle, but it echoed in the elevator. It set Jason off and they were giggling and leaning on each other when the doors opened.

He stood up straight and elbowed Jason when he noticed Clark standing in the doorway. Clark looked a little shocked, as shocked as a man who could hear everything could be. Jason coughed awkwardly and stepped out of the elevator.

"I wanted to check in with you before you left." Tim walked behind them as Clark apologized for Diana. As Clark went on his mind drifted and he could almost imagine he was walking behind Clark and Bruce, in awe that he was so close to two of his heroes. Then Jason turned and cocked his head at him. That hadn't really changed, he was still walking with his heroes. He sped up and fell into step next to them.

"I'll let you go then."

"Tell Martha happy birthday for me?" he blurted.

"Will do." Clark smiled at him and even in the red and blue suit, Earth and stars backdropping him he was just Clark Kent from Smallville. "You could join us for dinner? It's been a while." Clark's eyes dimmed a little. They all knew the reason why.

"Maybe another time?" he glanced at Jason.

"Maybe you should go," Jason said casually when they were back in the cave.

"Don't," he warned.

"Don't what?" Jason snapped as he tugged off the cowl.

"Don't start this shit again."

"What? I'm not doing anything. I just said if you wanted to go to the Kent's for dinner you should."

Tim scoffed and pulled off his wings. "You always do this."

"What am I doing?" Jason was struggling with one of the straps of his suit. He stepped forward and undid it for him before pulling his own top off and grabbing the closest hoodie.

"You pretend to be okay with something then get mad when I do it. ' _Ah no. It's fine. Go to the movies. I don't care. I'm just going to bitch about it for the next week_.'" he mocked in a high pitched voice.

Jason shot him a look as if to say 'real mature'."Sorry if I didn't want my boyfriend hanging out with a guy that was secretly in love with him."

"Really? I knew okay? I'm not an idiot. And it didn't matter because _I_ love _you_. I wanted to be with you. Even if you were too stupid to see it." He pulled on his shoes and stood up. "I'm going home. I saved the screenshot of Diana's face on the computer to add to your collection. I'll see you for patrol."

He put the apartment in lock down when he got back. He didn't want anyone checking in on him. He headed for the room he'd added a few months before Bruce had died.

"Activate B02," he said to the console and locked the door behind him.

"Timothy?"

He smiled heart aching in his chest. He was sure he had ruined it. Most of the program had been finished when he started messing around with it a few weeks ago. They had been working on it for months prior to that, Bruce had mostly wanted it for fight simulations, but Tim had insisted on personality traits for cases. So he turned to look at Bruce, sitting on a chair of light with his cowl-less suit on.

"Hey B. How's the code running?" he asked.

"I am okay." B quirked an awkward smile and Tim had to look away.

"Are you okay, Timothy?"

"It's just Tim. I told you this last time B."

"You're avoiding the question, Tim." B said pointedly and looked at him with a slight tilt to his head.

"It's Jay."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He ran a hand through his hair. He had had to hide his laughter the first time they'd ran the program and B had talked and talked. Bruce had stared at his doppelganger and immediately grumbled about faulty programming. It had taken them the rest of the night to tweak the programming and Bruce still hadn't been happy with it. When he had opened the program settings back up Tim had told him that there wasn't a setting for stubborn. Bruce had looked so affronted that Tim had started laughing. "Not really."

"I'm always here," B said flatly, then smirked.

"He drives me crazy sometimes." he blurted. "It's like he knows where all of my buttons are and immediately pushes them all."

"Have you talked to him?" B asked.

He stared at him. "Okay. Yeah. There is still something wrong with your programming. Did you really just ask if I had talked to Jason?"

"My programming is running just fine. If I had talked to Jason we could have worked out our problems years ago."

"He wouldn't have listened."

"I am his father. Just because he doesn't want to listen doesn't mean he doesn't need to hear it."

"Did Alfred teach you that?"

"No. You did." He stared at B and wanted him to be real. He wanted to be able to hug him. Bruce gave the best hugs, there was a list. He wondered if it was still in one of the boxes from his house that he hadn't bothered to unpack. They had reordered the list so many times that you could barely make anything out. What ended up winning it in the end was that Bruce's hugs were so rare they felt like gifts. Jason had gone red as soon as he'd admitted that.

They shifted to talking about cases and Justice League dynamics.

"Tim. It is almost time for patrol." He looked up at the screen by the door. He hadn't realized it had been that long. "Talk to him," B added with a wave before shutting down.

It was easier said than done. Jason was already in his suit, cowl up, when he got back. He told Tim where to go then slid into the Batmobile.

He changed and headed out, it looked like it was just the two of them again. He stuck to the roofs. His side was still sore and swinging through the city wouldn't help it any.

"Hey Bats?" he called through the comm, they'd been silent up to that point. He was propped on the edge of a building watching a few men walk around talking shit to each other. He was pretty sure they were just bored locals, but he watched nonetheless. There were a few seconds of silence. He glanced down at the monitor on his wrist to make sure that Jason could hear him.

"I could use some help." Came back. Jason sounded out of breath. He cursed and jumped, swinging toward the docks.

Jason watched him leave with his heart in his throat, locking his air in place just long enough for Tim to escape before he could tell him to say it again. ' _And it didn't matter because I love you.'_ Love. Not loved. It was present tense. He felt like he chest had been cracked open all over again as painfully and suddenly as the day that he walked out.

He ripped off the rest of his suit and hung it up quickly, storming to the computer to check the collection, the first one was the new image of Diana surprised and netted to the wall. If he could have gone back and told his teenage self that he would get the one up on Wonder Woman one day, Jason never would have believed it. But now it did nothing to quell the pit day that was brewing in the back of his head. He scrolled to the next one. A picture of Tim wrapped up in Jason's red hoodie on the couch, passed out with a red nose, finally sleeping after a week of fighting a cold. The next was a picture of Tim laughing and shoving the camera away from him while Jason had pinched at his cheek. A picture of Tim in the morning, eyes both blurry and clear as he looked up at him like he was his favorite person in the world. Jason hadn't seen that in a long time. That look like Tim couldn't believe just how lucky he was. Jason clicked out of the folder and shoved the chair back.

Why did he do this to himself? Tim was right, he was jealous. He had always been jealous of Kon. The two of them had always just clicked together in a way that Jason never had. He wasn't good with feelings and he ruined things. Jason's entire life was about ruining the things that were important to him so that no one else would get the chance to. He did it with Robin, pushing Bruce out until he had no one to rescue him. And he did it with Tim.

Jason made his way back up to the manor letting the heaviness of the fight fall over him. Tim _had_ said love. There was no mistaking that. But he forced himself to push it into the back of his mind where the storm was brewing. After what happened yesterday and now this, there was no pushing it back. The pit day was on him.

He got suited up before Tim even got to the cave knowing that if he waited for him that he would inflict more damage than he would mean too. He managed not to stare at Tim when he got there by keeping his eyes pointed ahead. He didn't need to be distracted when he was on patrol so he gave Tim a location and flipped his comm on before he climbed into the Batmobile and took off.

He didn't talk like he usually would. He knew that he was pouting but he didn't know how to stop it without turning this into a bigger fight. So he kept to the streets and let Tim take the rooftop, picking up on a scanner signal about a disturbance at the docks. Jason spun the car around and punched the gas, leaving it in an alley to hit the docks on foot. "Red, I'm on a foot pursuit on the docks." he said into the comm as a heads up. Tim didn't say anything but he figured as much, Jason probably wouldn't be talking to himself either. He fell onto the shadows but it wasn't easy. There were two police cruisers with their lights still flashing by the water but whoever had driven them there left them. He walked around the edge of the industrial boathouse and pressed the button on the side of the cowl that activated his biopic ear.

It was mostly static. He moved closer to the doorway carefully and pressed his head up to the side of the building when he heard it. The sound that had haunted his dreams for the last ten years of his life. The last thing he had heard before he clawed himself out of the grave and it was all he knew. A sickening, clown-like laugh.

His stomach turned and he reached for his gun, fear and rage churning around inside him until all he could see was red. Fuck this clown. He could still hear him laughing in his ear as he pulled his head up. " _Prepare yourself for a severe spanking young man."_ He had laughed. And laughed. And laughed until all the humor fell out of his eyes and what stared back at him wasn't even human anymore. _"But let me tell you right from the start. This is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me."_

He moved. _Jason don't._ He hesitated at the door and shut his eyes. Not now.

"Go away."

Bruce was staring at him when he opened his eyes looking so clear and so real that he almost reached out to touch him. He looked exactly like he had the last time he saw him, half dressed on his way to the office after a late night patrol telling Jason to stop being a child and play by his rules. The night hadn't ended well. He was dead a week later.

 _This is a bad idea._ The vision told him. It was Bruce. The same voice that he had been hearing and the one that woke him up that morning.

"Why are you here?" he demanded in a hiss, not sure if his heart could take any more of this. "Nevermind. That isn't important right now," he told him pushing forward towards the boathouse.

 _God damnit, Jason._ But he was already through the window.

"Eyes on Joker, Red." He said into the comm flipping off his night vision glasses and switching on the thermal. He counted the bodies. "Two hostages, maybe five goons."

 _You should have waited for Tim._ Jason jumped as Bruce appeared next to him again looking over the top of a crate at the scene in front of him. _This is impulsive and childish, Jason. You are making all of the same mistakes you make when you were a kid._

"Tim will come," Jason told him. He had back up this time. It wouldn't be the same. And there were two cops that needed him to buck up.

He heard the laugh again and a wet whack followed by the muffled scream. "I will give you too the count of five." The slimy voice from his nightmares oozed out. "One…"

 _Jason._

"Two."

 _You should wait for Tim._

"Three."

"Red, I'm moving in."

"Four."

" _Five."_ Jason had barely gotten the voice modulator on as he vaulted onto the top of the crates looking down at Gotham's worst as they stared up at him horrified. He wondered why they were so scared for a moment before he remembered who he was, The Batman. The cops looked at him with hope bubbling out of their faces and yelled muffled pleas for his help. But he didn't look at them. He only looked at the man in front of them, face painted white with a ghoulish grin. He looked at Jason like he had just been given a gift.

"Little bird is all grown up," he cackled and took a slinking step back towards the dock where a boat was reaving to life. "You look so grown up in daddy's clothes." He smirked and nodded to the men around him. "Tuck him in boys," he told them and started running towards the boat.

Jason couldn't wait any longer. He launched himself from the crates and took down two of the goons with a net as he landed on a third. It took two hits to keep him down and the next had him by the neck. He just barely got his arm tucked into his elbow, pulling his knees up to his chest before he threw all his weight to the ground and flipped him over his shoulder. He elbowed him in the neck and shot a shock pellet into his gut that put his lights out.

He scrambled to his feet but the last goon had drawn a gun and had it aimed at the officers that were tied together. "Fuck." He grunted and dove in front of them, feeling the crack of his kevlar bent uncomfortably with a sharp pain.

" _Hey Bats_?" his comm finally glared up.

Jason groaned as the second bullet lodged itself into his shoulder. "I could use some help." He breathed and just barely caught the next one the left side of his vest and he hit him with another electric pellet.

He groaned and grabbed his shoulder turning back to the docks but the boat was already speeding away. He could just make out the white speck of the Joker's face watching him as he got away.

Tim had to pry him out of his kevlar with a screwdriver where the third shot that he had taken had warped the buckle, locking him in. He took a deep breath as he pulled it off of him in relief and stared at the damaged the first had done to the back of it. Tim was furious. "You should have waited," he said for the thousandth time as he yanked the ruined vest off the floor and threw it on the bedside table. Alfred walked in with a medical tray and set it next to the vest, silently stewing in his own thoughts while Tim kept up his monologue.

Jason grit his teeth as Alfred reached into his shoulder with the long tweezers, digging for the bullet that had been left there. "The signal was jammed," he told Tim. "I couldn't get through to you until you called me."

"It doesn't matter." He threw his wings off and kept pacing the room. "I was a minute away. You could have come get me any time-"

"There wasn't time." Jason insisted.

"There is _always_ time!" Tim yelled back at him and both Jason and Alfred blinked in his direction. "You can't just walk into trouble on your own anymore. That's not how _this_ works," he told him gesturing between them in a rage. "We are a _team_ , Jason. We work together or _this_ ," he gestured again, "Doesn't work. So for the love of god, will you stop trying to get yourself killed?" he demanded.

Jason didn't know what to say. At one end he felt defensive. He wasn't trying to get himself killed… he didn't think. But if he was being honest, Jason never really thought about living or dying when he went into a fight. He just thought about winning. About being in the thick of it. He never cared about coming out as long as he went in. Then he thought about how he would feel if Tim had done this to him. He thought about Bruce telling him to wait and shook it off.

Tim wasn't looking at Jason, he was pacing, still ranting at him about how stupid he was until Jason cut in. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Tim stopped pacing and blinked at him confused. "What was that?" he asked raising his eyebrow. He wasn't going to make this easy.

Jason sighed And looked at him annoyed. "You are _always_ right. I'm stupid. I should have waited for you and I'm sorry."


	3. Chapter Three

**CHAPTER THREE**

"Explain the Joker to me?"

B looked at him for a long second, the calculating look in the hologram's eyes looked so much like Bruce's, Tim had to remind himself that he was just a program.

"What do you want to know?"

"I just don't understand..." he hesitated, Tim had wanted to ask Bruce this question exactly once before. He'd been woken up by Jason screaming in his sleep. Tim had held him down as he thrashed and eventually Jason had woken up and after a few horrible moments when he didn't recognize where he was he had told Tim every detail about how he died. Jason had talked until the sun rose and then talked until his voice gave out. That night when they were getting ready for patrol Tim had stared at Bruce, the question on the tip of his tongue: 'Why is the Joker still alive?' But then he saw Bruce hesitate for a second as the man passed Jason's uniform, and the question disappeared. Now, looking at B sitting, just waiting for the question, he couldn't bring himself to ask.

"Did something happen with Jason?" B asked after a few more beats of silence. He nodded. "My thoughts about the man are going to be very different than Jason's. For me the Joker was an adversary, an opponent in an ever changing game of chess. For Jason, he's the monster in his closet, the thing that went bump in the night."

"He can't get over it." He stopped and shook his head. "I don't even think that he should, the man _killed_ him, but he can't keep letting it rule him. I just… don't know how to help, and I can't watch him get himself killed because of it."

"Do what I never did. Be there for him."

Tim looked at B. The man looked back at him and then started talking. He sat back and let him go over a few of the cases that he'd loaded into the computer the night before.

"It says right there that you shouldn't exist. So go away," Jason hissed.

"Jay?" he called as he walked down the last few stairs. Jason was sitting at the computer. Tim saw a brain scan on the screen for a second before it was minimized. "Who are you talking to?"

Jason looked around, his eyes falling back to one spot a few times. "Nobody. Just working a case out loud. Helps sometimes. Didn't you say that?"

"Yeah. And I seem to remember you mocking me when you walked in on me doing exactly that." Jason smiled briefly at the memory.

"Well, I've grown. And it helps."

He looked at Jason. He was hiding something, terribly. "If you say so. Here's the new chest piece. Lucius reinforced a few spots. Try not to ruin it in the first week this time." Jason gave him a betrayed look. "Just passing on the message. Although I can't say I don't agree," he added as he headed up the stairs.

"Since you're here early… You want to spar?" Jason called before he got very far. He looked up the stairs, he had work he should get done before patrol.

"If you're ready to get your ass kicked," he said as he turned back.

Tim smirked from where he was sitting on Jason's chest, his knees pinning his shoulders down. Jason was still moving below him, trying to knock him off. He leaned forward when Jason tried to hook him with his leg. After a few more seconds, Jason stopped fighting.

"You win," Jason said in a defeated tone. Tim shook his hands above his head and made crowd noises. That was all it took and Jason had him on his back on the mat. He just grinned up at him and Jason's eyes went sad.

He rolled to his feet. "Jay?"

"That was pretty scrappy. What happened to your perfect form?" Jason was stretching, facing away from him. He was keeping his voice light. Tim watched him stretch and wondered what would happen if he pushed him. If he asked what had just changed, what had put that sorrow in his eyes.

"Sometimes you need to improvise," he commented, imitating the same light hearted voice Jason was using. "And you never fight fair. I had to do something to beat you."

"Excuse me? Are you calling me a cheater?" Jason turned his eyes lit up with amusement and fake irritation.

"I'm just stating a fact," he said and tried to hide his grin.

"A fact. Like it's fact that you're a terrible loser?"

"I'm a great…" he shot Jason a look when he realised what he had been about to say. Jason snickered and covered his mouth. Tim tackled him. They wrestled, more chaos than any actual attempts at submission. He had Jason half-pinned to the mat and Jason had his hand in an uncomfortable hold, but wasn't quite pushing into pain yet. He looked down at Jason. He could see the years on his face, scars that he didn't know the story to, more worry wrinkles than laugh lines. His eyes dropped to Jason's lips. Jason had said it earlier. He'd grown. They'd grown. They weren't the same people that had given up on the only good thing in either of their lives. It would be so easy to just let go. To kiss Jason now. To stop fighting it. To let himself love him.

Jason let go of his arm. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah," he grumbled under his breath. "Quit griping." Jason helped him up and headed into the cave.

Tim stared at him as Jason walked out of the practice room. What had just happened? He had clearly been responding to someone. Someone that wasn't there. His mind jumped to the brain scan. Jason was seeing things. That much was clear.

Jason was getting into his suit, quiet now. He looked over to him before heading for the computer. He wouldn't be able to wait until after patrol. If there was something wrong with Jason he needed to know. He opened the scan, but there was nothing there. He closed the scan and looked over to Batman as he walked down the catwalk. He shook his head before joining him and getting into his suit.

"You're coming with me," he was watching Jason pack and check his gear. His hands trembled as he loaded spare rounds into their magazines. "I don't care if you're not officially part of the League. You're my partner. You're coming. If Robin got to help out then so can you." Jason looked at him, like he was expecting him to fight. It was Jason's first League call as Batman. He could feel the nerves coming off of him in waves.

"I'm already packed. I was ready when the call came through." He took the round from Jason's hands after the fourth attempt at loading the same one. "Calm down. You can do this. I'll be with you and we'll get this thing taken down and then we'll be back here and you can make me watch that terrible movie you've been hounding me to watch."

Jason stopped and took a deep breath.

"What did Clark do to all these aliens anyway?" Jason grumbled sliding the magazine into its space on his holster.

"B says that it's like Clark won the beauty pageant and every one is jealous and trying to steal the crown."

"Is earth the crown?" Jason asked looking more than amused at the idea.v"Was Bruce on painkillers when he said that?" He watched Jason strap into the jet's pilot seat.

Tim forgot he hadn't told Jason about the hologram. The more he talked to B the more he felt like he'd created a window into an alternate universe. A universe where the Waynes never died and their son didn't shape his entire life around that pain. He had cried the first time B had laughed. The hologram had awkwardly tried to soothe him, but it had just made everything worse. The watchtower's comm connected and he was saved from having to explain the conversation.

The alien was huge. It cleared most of the buildings. Clark and Diana were drawing its attention and delivering blows that had the thing shuddering, but not falling. Flash and Green Lantern were evacuating people. He glanced over to Jason and he looked back at him, the red lenses shining in the evening light. They dropped from the jet and Tim watched the league shift as Batman joined the fight. He felt a bubble of anticipation rise in him. "Let's show them how it's done," Jason said and fired his grapple.

Tim swung down and pulled a child out of the way of a chunk of a high-rise that had been knocked loose by the alien. "Bats. It's tearing the city apart. We need space." He heard Jason relay the information, along with a suggestion on how to do it. He set the kid down behind a barricade and shot off to the closest roof. He took in the scene as Superman taunted the alien and it moved toward the bay. As the alien turned to roar at Wonder Woman as she sliced across one of its arms, he saw it.

"Attack the red scales on its back," Batman called over the comms.

Tim blinked. He'd been about to say exactly that. Wonder Woman responded immediately. Her sword drove between the scales and the alien shrieked and its arms grabbed for her. He landed on the edge of the closest building and watched Batman shoot a few rounds into the wound Wonder Woman had left. The alien spun and roared as it moved toward Batman, who was already on the move. He knew where Jason's line was pulling him, where he'd land, and he could see where the creature's arm was going to swing. He wasn't going to make it. Tim shot his line even though he knew he wouldn't make it in time.

"Jason!" Tim yelled as he watched the alien's arm swat Batman through the wall of a building. He heard Clark's voice over the comm, but he ignored it. "Not again," he whispered as he landed on the broken edge of brick. "Jason," he called stepping further into the darkened room.

"Robin! Watch out!" Clark's voice came through clearly in his ear. He turned and saw the alien moving toward the building. He ran. He doubted he'd clear the building in time, when he saw Jason laying in the rubble he knew he wouldn't. He reached him as the wall exploded behind him.

He woke up to the crackle of his comm. It whined and he pulled it out. He coughed and looked around. The building had crumbled around them. Jason was laying a few feet away from him. He crawled over the brick and plaster. "Jay," he touched the suit. He moved closer and reached for the cowl. "Jason, come on. Wake up." he pulled the cowl off. "Please." Jason's head drooped to the side. He pulled at the neck of the cowl and reached for a pulse. As his fingers touched his skin Jason jerked, gasping in air. "Hey. Hey. Breathe. Breathe. You're okay." Jason blinked at him, his eyes cleared with each blink.

"What happened?" he slurred.

"I think you know how a fly feels right now." he gestured swatting a fly. Jason smiled weakly. "I thought I told you to stop trying to get yourself killed." He hated the thickness in his voice. He'd been worried Jason had been dead when he found him. He touched Jason's face, Jason caught his hand.

"I'm fine Nugget." Tim rested his head on his chest. Jason touched his hair carefully, running his gloved fingers through his hair. He didn't like this feeling. His chest ached. He'd been so afraid he was going to lose him again, and he didn't even really have him in the first place. "Once we get out of here it's me, you, and a bowl of popcorn," Jason commented. "Not even a building can stop you from watching this movie."

"It's a date," he said softly as the brick and concrete around them shifted slightly. He could faintly hear the league now. As the first ray of Hal's lantern broke through he sat up as much as he could.

Jason shifted, and looked up at him."A date," Jason whispered, awe in his voice.

Tim, Clark and Diana were watching through the wide window into the infirmary as Jason pulled his shirt quickly back over his head and headed over to where J'onn was going over his scans. He turned his back to the other three and stared straight ahead through the scan at the solid spectre that was Bruce- who had been present ever since the alien attack. He cleared his throat and forced himself to look at the Martian. "Well," he asked trying to keep the eagerness quelled and out of his voice, "Anything I should be worried about?"

"Not today." J'onn told him, but he didn't seem happy about it. He, Tim, and Clark had been insistent about him getting a full body scan before they went back to Gotham. His eyes darted to where Bruce was was glaring in the corner of the room, arms crossed unhappily across his chest.

 _Tell him to run it again._ Bruce told him but Jason just walked back to gather the rest of his suit.

"I told you not to worry," he told J'onn but aimed it in the way of the spectre. He tapped his head and looked back at Tim who was frowning at something Clark had said. Jason gave him a thumbs up and he swore that he saw the tiniest hint of a smile perk at the edge of Tim's mouth. He zipped up his jacket and grabbed the cowl before he headed out of the room and met the group in the hallway. "Am I clear to go now?" he asked Clark who still looked like he wanted to keep him back.

"You always were," he said unhappily. "It just doesn't make sense. That hit should have killed you."

 _Yes._ Bruce agreed, still on the other side of the glass. _It should have._

Jason focused hard on Clark to keep from looking over at him. He should have gone away by now. He forced a laugh and shrugged while walking over to Tim. "Yeah, well. They make us a little tougher in Gotham," he said offhandedly and put his arm around the boy in front of him. Tim had been in shock the entire way back to the tower, holding onto him like he was a battery, offering his life to keep Jason from fading out. "Are you ready to go?" he asked him. Tim nodded and they turned to Diana who was blocking the way.

She rubbed her neck awkwardly before she straightened her shoulder and made herself look at him. "You made a good call today and led the team well," she told him, and then her face softened a little, making his chest clench. "Bruce would have been proud of you."

 _I am always proud of you._ Bruce said from right behind him and Jason just barely stopped himself from jumping.

He cleared past the tightness in his throat, "Thank you, Diana," he said a little thicker than he wanted too, "But it was Tim's call," he said squeezing him. "They don't call us the dynamic duo for nothing." Tim looked up at him in surprise, but didn't say anything "We'll send the report over once it's all typed up." He told Clark as Diana let them past and led Tim towards the elevator.

Tim was quiet on the way back, only speaking up to give the occasional direction. Jason just let him be. He didn't want to push him too far and ruin the opportunity that had been placed in front of him. A date. A real date with Tim. They had never really dated when they were together, just kind of fell into things because they were young and hormonal and- well- horny. He had loved Tim so strongly that he never really thought that was a problem until they had split up. They had done everything wrong. He had let it go wrong. He wasn't going to do that this time.

He went straight from the jet to the computer, wanting to get through the report fast so that he could shower off the thick layer of dust he was wearing as a second skin. He hadn't realised that Tim came back into the cave until he was leaning over the back of the chair, his hair still wet and smelling like cotton and happiness. It was a challenge to keep his eyes on the computer but he managed. "Jay?" Tim asked him after a minute.

"Yeah?" he hummed.

"I didn't tell you about the scales."

Jason stopped typing, eyes moving to the other side of the table where Bruce was leaning grimly and impatient. _We need to talk, Jason._

Jason just shrugged and started typing again. "That's weird," he told Tim light heartedly. "I could have sworn that I heard you through the comm. Guess you are just getting in my head."

 _You need to deal with this, Jason. You can't just keep pushing it off._

"I guess," Tim grumbled.

Jason finished typing the report and sent it off, pushing away from the desk hard and turning his back to Bruce as he rounded on Tim with a grin. "Now that work is taken care of-" he stood up and unzipped the top half of his suit, pulling it off of his chest. "I'm going to shower. I'll meet you in den in twenty minutes. And there better be popcorn." He warned Tim who looked like he was both excited and wary all at the same time. Jason left before he could change his mind and groaned when he opened the door on Bruce's stern gaze. "What?" he demanded shutting himself in the bathroom. "What do you want _now_? Can you please just go away?"

 _What I want is for you to tell Tim about me._ Bruce told him annoyed, tapping his foot while Jason turned the shower on as hot as it would go and stripped.

"You want me to tell Tim that I am having hallucinations?" he asked. Now he knew that he had to be crazy. "This is the same guy who tried to clone all of his dead friends. Do you really think he needs to worry about me right now? I almost died in front of him today."

Bruce looked pained and Jason focused in the shower wall as he scrubbed himself clean, glad that the frosted door was between them. _Jason, you didn't 'almost'_ _die._

"That doesn't matter." Jason cut him off, "To Tim, I did." He shut off the water and grabbed a towel, rubbing himself quickly dry, glad the the spectre had enough decency to look away. "I'm not putting this on Tim. I will figure this out. But for the rest of _this_ night, I need you to go away."

He marched out of the bathroom and pulled open his drawer grabbing an old t shirt and some sweatpants. He pulled them on and looked back at Bruce who was watching him sadly. _I can't just go away._ He told him. Jason sighed, running a hard hand through his hair, ready to yell at him, but Bruce held up a hand. _I can't just go away. But I will give you tonight._ He nodded Jason towards the door, _be good to him._ He waited until Jason was almost out the door before he added, _Use protection._ Jason just flipped him off.

Tim was pacing in the den when he got downstairs, muttering something himself that sounded like he was calling himself stupid. Jason hesitated in the doorway, letting the last of Bruce fade off of him so that he could focus on the boy before him. Tim was flushed, it looked like he was practicing what he was going to say. Jason wondered what he had been like the first time that they went out.

He grinned and pushed into the room. "I swear, it really isn't that bad of a movie." He told him, laughing when Tim jumped and turned as red as the carpet.

"When did you get here?" he demanded.

Jason shrugged and jumped over the back of the couch, "Somewhere in the middle of your self pep talk."

If it was possible, Tim got redder. "I wasn't… I didn't…"

Jason just shook his head and tapped the couch next to him, grabbing the bowl of still warm popcorn. "It's okay. I gave myself one too." He told him thinking back to Bruce and wondering if he was still in his room, but it fell out of his mind when Tim sat down.

They were stiff for the first couple of scenes. They were close enough that their legs would touch if they moved. The film was in Spanish and Tim made the mistake of leaning in at the absolutely worst part and jumped so hard that he was halfway in Jason's lap. He pushed himself back onto the couch when Jason stopped laughing at him but he stayed tucked under his arm. About halfway through Jason started making small comments, picking apart scenes until Tim stopped freaking out. They laughed and Tim jumped and burrowed closer and closer into him until Jason was sure that he could hear his heart thumping in his chest.

They sat there for a minute when the movie clicked off, the room still dark around them and the manor seemed more silent than they had ever heard before. He didn't want this to end. This closeness. The secret intimacy that came with being in the dark- but he knew that he had to. Their entire relationship had been in the dark, hiding from the family and their friends because it was safer that way. But that had been wrong. He wasn't going to hide. He was going to do this thing right. He got up and held his hand out to Tim. "C'mon. I'll walk you to the door." He grinned.

He held onto Tim's hand while they walked up the stairs, slowly, hands swinging between them. They stopped in front of Tim's door and Jason pulled him around, "So since this is a date, I think this is the part the part where you twirl your hair and pretend like you weren't scared."

Tim rolled his eyes at him, "I wasn't-" He started but Jason closed the distance between them, free hand holding the back of his neck as he melted into the kiss. A _real_ first kiss. The one that Tim had always deserved to have- not the mess of tongues and hands that he had gotten the first time around.

But Jason was still breathless when he pulled away, a stupid smile stuck on his face. He kissed him once more because he just couldn't help it and laughed when Tim pulled at his shirt but he let up when Jason pulled back again. "Good night Tim," he whispered and left him before he couldn't leave at all.

"You are in a good mood this morning," Alfred told him.

Tim looked up from his bowl of oatmeal and let the smile that he'd been fighting break out. "Yeah. It's been a good morning."

"Does this have anything to do with Master Jason dancing down the hall last night?" Alfred raised a bemused eyebrow.

He looked back to his oatmeal. "Possibly," he hedged. He stirred and watched the cinnamon disappear.

"Master Bruce and myself were upset when you two ended your relationship." He let the spoon drop to the bowl. "He would be happy to see you trying again." His heart hurt as he met Alfred's eyes. Tim hadn't considered that they'd known. He'd known when he read the letter that Bruce knew, but he had been sure that he'd figured it out later, after they had broken up. He had no idea that Alfred had ever known. They'd never even talked within the manor walls. Jason had refused to ever come.

"You think so?" he asked his smile hopeful. Alfred sat down across from him, he felt his world tilt a little bit.

"Don't ever doubt that he wanted you to be happy. He was never very good at expressing it, but that was his dearest wish." Alfred touched his hand across the table. He felt a little of the worry ease. If he was being honest with himself, which he was trying to be, Jason's jealousy over Kon wasn't the only thing that had broken them up. He'd been so tired of hiding their relationship. His entire life he had to hide who he was. He didn't want to have to hide the person he loved the most. But he didn't have to anymore. Alfred smiled briefly and stood. "Your food is getting cold." He nodded and went back to eating.

"Will you tell Jason I had to go to work? I'll be back this evening." Alfred nodded. He glanced up the stairs as he passed them. He wanted to go tell Jason himself, but it didn't feel right. It felt like it was too soon. It felt like they'd wiped the slate clean and were starting again. He didn't want to mess this up, but he didn't think Jason would let him.

 **JT:** You eat food right?

 **TD:** If I get a free second.

 **JT:** Find a free second.

 **JT:** Tonight at 7.

 **TD:** I think I can spare a few seconds. Better be some good food. I'm a busy man.

 **JT:** It'll be the best.

 **JT:** If you're SO busy why are you texting me? Get back to work.

Tim went into his next meeting with a smile. Lucius did a double take when he walked in. He ignored the questioning look and took his seat. Maybe he needed to smile more if people were reacting like that. But he just hadn't had that much to smile about lately.

Claire smiled oddly at him when he told her he was leaving for the day. "Yes Mr. Drake. Have a good night." She picked up her phone as soon as he was out of earshot. He glanced back and she was giggling into the receiver. She looked up, saw him watching, and her face straightened, but he could see the effort. The elevator doors shut and he was left feeling confused as it descended.

He pulled his tie loose as he walked down the hall to his apartment. Jason hadn't said where they were going, but he didn't feel like driving out to the manor just to drive back into the city for food. He pushed open the door and was hit with the best mix of garlic and tomato he'd ever experienced. He dropped his bag and followed the scent into the kitchen.

"My thumbprint opens your door."

"It does," he commented hovering over the pot where the delicious smell was wafting from. Jason pushed his fingers away when he tried to taste it. "Go take a shower. It'll be ready when you get out." Jason steered him out of the kitchen. He pouted, but did as he was told.

Jason was setting their plates on the table when he walked out. Whatever he'd done in the time it took him to shower had made the loft smell even better.

"Have you always cooked?" he asked taking the seat Jason had pulled out for him. He touched the tablecloth, he recognized it from the manor.

Jason shrugged. "I've always liked to. I took a course a few years ago."

"Oh good, cause if I could have been eating this eight years ago and wasn't?" he moaned around the fork. "Jay, this is amazing."

"I had planned to get all dressed up and go to dinner, but I couldn't pick a place." Jason shrugged. "Then I remembered eating that cold spaghetti out on the fire escape."

That had been a good night. They hadn't gotten together yet, though Tim was pretty sure that was the night that knocked them on the road toward it. They'd run into each other on their patrols. Bruce was away, and so they'd stuck together. It was easier when you had someone watching your back, and Jason was just starting to trust him with that. He didn't know why, but Jason led him to one of his safe houses and they ate some of Alfred's leftover spaghetti. Alfred would have had a fit finding them eating it out of the container with plastic forks. He'd laughed at the image and when he'd told Jason, he'd made some exaggerated horrified expression and Jason laughed even harder. He was pretty sure that was the first time he'd heard Jason laugh. He wouldn't have expected Jason to remember it. Not after all this time.

He smiled briefly at Jason, but the food was calling to him, he hadn't eaten since breakfast, and even then he hadn't finished the bowl. "Honestly, I would have eaten Big Belly Burger with you. But this is such a better choice."

"You hate Triple B."

"I hate it because you call it that," he replied pointing his fork at Jason. Jason just shot him a devilish grin.

"You have some-" Jason pointed to his cheek. Tim wiped at it. His mind screaming at him that spaghetti was a terrible choice for a first date. "Almost. Oh just let me get it." Jason pecked him on the cheek. He felt his face heat up immediately. "There."

He pushed Jason back into his chair. "You're the worst."

"You say the worst, but I hear the best." Jason's eyes drifted behind him. His smile faded a bit, but it brightened when he looked back at him. He fought the urge to turn around.

"You should get your ears checked out, cause you're definitely the worst." Jason laughed and his heart swelled in his chest at hearing that sound come so easily again. "If we're traveling down memory lane you feel like heading over to the Dream Factory?" he asked. Jason lit up.

"If I ever say no then I'm dead," Jason said grabbing their empty plates.

The Dream Factory was a late night bakery. It was the only thing still open when they were done with patrol. If it was late enough the workers didn't even look twice at their uniforms. They walked. Jason's hand brushed against his every few steps as they talked about what they were going to get. After the third time he caught Jason's hand. Jason's sentence paused but he resumed his ode to the apple pie with a light squeeze of his hand.

"So, Jay. I um was wondering if maybe you'd, I mean you can say no. If you don't - I mean you don't." he stopped and looked at his reflection. His hair was still wet from his post patrol shower. All Tim needed to do was go out into the cave and manage to form a simple question.

"Hey Jay?" He called as he walked out. Jason jerked and spun to look at him. He looked frustrated. He'd seen it grow more and more with each passing day. He pushed that aside for now. Jason would tell him what was bothering him soon. He always did. "I know you hate these things, but I was hoping you'd go with me to the Foundation Gala."

"You're still hosting the Gala?" Jason asked, dragging his eyes from where he'd been studying the stairs.

"Yeah? We're honoring Bruce this time," his voice cracked on Bruce's name. He cleared his throat. "I have to give a speech."

"You hate public speaking," Jason said eyes locked on him.

"I do, but he was my dad." He looked at Jason who still hadn't answered him. "Don't worry about it. I just thought I'd ask." he headed for the stairs.

"Oh! Wait. I'm an idiot. Of course I'll go." Jason grabbed his hands and held them to keep him from leaving. "Next time I'll say yes, then ask questions." Jason pulled him in and wrapped his arms around him. He still smelled like the suit. It was oddly comforting. "Do you want to practice your speech?" Tim shook his head and buried his face in Jason's shirt. He'd been putting off writing it.

"I bet he'd throw a hissy fit if he caught us hugging in the batcave," Jason said after a few minutes of silence. "This is no place for emotion."

"He had your suit in a glass case for years." He pulled away with a yawn. "And he's hugged me in here before."

"He hugged you?"

"I've had a lot of people die," he said with a shrug. "I'm going to bed."

"No I know. Shut up." Jason hissed behind him. He frowned as he kept walking. There was definitely something going on. "Goodnight. Don't let the batmites bite!" Jason chirped. He waved sleepily as the cave disappeared.

 **TD:** Do you mind visiting?

 **DG:** I thought you'd never ask. This weekend?

 **TD:** Sounds good. I'll talk to you when you get here.

Jason leaned against the bathroom door. He watched him in the mirror for a second before going back to tying his bowtie. Jason hadn't even bothered trying, his was hanging loose around his neck.

"Do you want me to teach you?" he asked, nodding at the bowtie.

"You could just do it for me."

"What if you need to tie one for a case?"

"You can just do it then too," Jason grabbed his belt and tugged him forward. "Since we're partners right?" Tim frowned at him, but tied his tie. Jason fiddled with his suspenders as he worked. "You should add these to your uniform. They're so useful," Jason said tugging him in for a kiss. He grinned and leaned into him.

The door buzzed and Jason turned to glare at it. "It's the car." He straightened his tie and grabbed his jacket on the way to the door.

He glanced over to Jason who was picking at a scab on his knuckles as he watched the buildings slide by. He captured Jason's hand so he'd stop picking. Jason tensed as the car rolled to a stop. He glanced out the window at the museum entrance. He could faintly hear Jason giving himself a pep talk as the driver walked around the car.

"I'm with you." Jason nodded and a smile flickered on his face. "Thank you for doing this for me," he caught his lips as the driver reached their door.

He took Jason's hand again as the driver pulled away. There were a few photographers taking pictures as they walked up the stairs.

Jason handed him a cocktail glass when he walked back up to the circle of WE board members that had caught Tim as soon as they walked in. He took it and took a sip as Jason's hand slid around his waist to rest on his hip. One of the members frowned at the action, but didn't say anything. He continued his point and leaned slightly against Jason. When it looked like the member was going to argue Jason stepped away and tugged on his arm.

"They're playing my favorite Nocturne. Let's dance." Tim followed after him trying not to laugh. When Jason turned and pulled him in he couldn't help it.

"Since when do you have a favorite Nocturne?" he asked. Jason shrugged as they danced. Dick had made sure that they all knew how to dance. It was hilarious watching Damian frown at Dick's chest as he was twirled.

"Are you calling me uncultured?" Jason asked with a smirk. "I'll have you know that I have a second favorite Nocturne and everything."

"Do you even know who this is?" He asked.

Jason huffed at him. "I can take you back to them if you want."

"No, I'm good here."

"Thank you for joining me in celebrating the life of Bruce Wayne." He concluded and looked up from his speech. It was crinkled and he was pretty sure he'd messed up just reading it, but the crowd clapped anyway. He bowed slightly before stepping off the podium. Jason was there waiting. He looked at Tim and tugged him away from the crowd. He let Jason block his view of the crowd in an alcove and caught his breath.

"You made Bruce cry," Jason said quietly.

"Sure," he chuckled. "I need to check in with a few people then we can head out." He took a deep breath and looked up at Jason, who was looking back at him.

He rested his head on Jason's shoulder as they drove back to the manor. Jason had been surprised when he'd given the address. He just wanted to be home. They walked through the halls and he turned toward Jason's room when they reached the top of the stairs. Jason said something about a shower and headed for the bathroom. He went through his drawers. Over the last few months Jason had slowly moved everything from his scattered safe houses into his room at the manor. He found one of his favorite shirts. He was flipping through movies in just his boxers and that shirt when Jason finished his shower.

"Do you want a comedy or action?" he asked.

Jason climbed over him onto the bed and glanced at the screen. "Comedy." He selected the movie and slid under the covers. He shifted and curled around Jason as the movie started.

Jason had his entire body wrapped around him when Tim woke up. He smiled and relaxed into the hold. He'd missed this, more than anything else. It was always easier to sleep with Jason than without him. He drifted in and out until Jason's grip tightened and loosened as he woke up. Jason kissed the back of his neck. He rolled over and smiled at him.

"We could just stay here all day," Jason pleaded when he sat up. "No one will miss us."

"Dick and Damian are here. I think they'll want to see you,"

"Just a little longer?" he turned and tucked himself back in as an answer.

Alfred handed him cup of coffee and placed the bowl in front of him. Jason watched as he breathed in the scent before taking a sip.

"I think you love that cup more than me," Jason joked. Alfred set his omelet down with a loud thunk. Jason shot Alfred a look as the man retreated to finish what he assumed was Dick and Damian's breakfast.

"I don't understand why I can't-" Damian hissed as he walked in the kitchen. "Why is he here?" he shifted back at the anger in his brother's voice. Dick had told him that Damian was getting better, processing some of the pain. It looked like he'd just taken all of his pain and funnelled it into his anger with him.

"Damian," Dick said with a sigh.

"Leave." He felt Jason bristle at his side.

"You can't-" Jason started but Damian ignored him.

"This is my house. My father is dead. So, we can drop the facade us ever being brothers. You were never really part of our family anyway. Father just pitied you."

"Damian!" Dick yelped and grabbed Damian who had taken a step forward.

"It wasn't enough to kill your own father? You had to kill mine too?"

"Master Damian. That is enough," Alfred said in a voice that brooked no argument.

"No. It's okay. I have some things I need to look into anyway." He slid past them without making eye contact with Dick.

"You're not the only one who lost their father," Jason growled at Damian as he followed Tim out of the kitchen.

"You don't have to take that from him." Jason said as soon as he shut the door. He stopped in front of the bed.

"He's right."

"No he's not."

"Yes, Jason he is. It's my fault."

"Have you been thinking that this entire time? It's not your fault."

"How is it not my fault? I was with him. I called 911. If I had started CPR... I made the wrong call and he died."

"You don't know that. CPR doesn't save everybody." Somewhere in his head Tim knew that. He had the statistics buried away with all the other facts in his head. But he couldn't accept it.

"Bruce could survive anything. If I'd just-" he felt the first tear drop. "if I had just-" Jason hugged him, shushing him. "Why'd he die? What did I do wrong?" Jason squeezed him tighter.

"Nothing. You did nothing wrong."

"I'm sorry," he cried and clung to Jason. "I failed you again." Jason pressed his cheek to the top of his head.

"I hate you for doing this to him," Jason whispered, his arms holding him tightly. He suspected they were the only things keeping him on his feet. "It's okay, Tim. You didn't fail him. It's not your fault." Jason repeated those words like a mantra.

 _Jason._

He ignored Bruce as he opened the bookcase that lead down to the cave where he knew that Dick and Damian must be hiding. It had taken him an hour to calm Tim down and even then he just climbed back into Jason's bed and rolled into the wall. He'd waited in the middle of the room for a few minutes, waited for Tim to tell him what he needed from him. What he was supposed to do. He wasn't good at this part. When Kon had died Jason spent three hours standing outside of Tim's room in the tower wondering of he should knock, if he would make it worse by being there, if he was stupid for even thinking he could make a difference. But now, with this… he couldn't even take a step towards the bed.

 _Jason._ Bruce called at him again but he was already at the cave door. He pushed it open and the lights came on as his feet touched the floor, emptiness apparent around him as he scowled into the room. He turned quick on his heel, ready to stalk back up the stairs and storm around the house until he found that little monster but Bruce was standing between them, eyes full of a fierceness that Jason hadn't seen since he died. _You can't keep avoiding me._ He told him.

Jason rolled his eyes. He wasn't avoiding him. He was just putting it off. It's not like he could just stop seeing Bruce, close his eyes and pretend that all of this would go away in the morning. He heard him constantly, saw him everywhere- even his dreams weren't his own anymore! He just wanted one fucking thing to himself. One month, one week with Tim before everything crumbled around him like it always did. And there was a small part of Jason, a part that he hoped that Bruce couldn't see, a small part that didn't want to hear him out. A part that knew that if he listened to him and they fixed whatever was cracked in his head, that Bruce would disappear. And Jason wasn't ready to loose his father again.

But as it was, Jason pushed all of that aside, letting his anger fuel him passed the inevitable disappointment and grief as he set his feet and clenched his jaw. "Watch me," he muttered and walked straight for him. Bruce wasn't real. He wasn't really there. Jason would be able to walk right-

-Into him.

Bruce pushed him back and Jason fell onto the floor, the breath knocked completely out of him as he scrambled backwards a few steps and blinked up at him terrified. "How the hell did you do that?" he demanded.

 _I have been trying to tell you._ Bruce shouted at him, frustration finally cracking his calm demeanor. _If you would just listen to me for once in your life!_

"You. Aren't. Real." Jason told him grinding out each word as he shoved himself back onto his feet. But even as he said it, he could feel himself starting to doubt that.

 _I am._ Bruce countered him simply, looking like he would give anything or the opposite to be true.

Jason was panting now, dark spots starting to float around in his vision. "But… you died," he said hating how fucking pathetic he sounded.

 _I did._ Bruce told him, stepping forward when he noticed Jason falter. He grabbed Jason's shoulders, his hand feeling ice cold where they hit the skin just under the sleeves of his shirt. Bruce looked into his eyes sadly, _I did die, Jason. I'm dead, and I am so sorry I put this on you._ He told him gesturing to everything around them before he grabbed his shoulder again to keep him from falling.

Jason stepped away from him, the cold pulling goose pimples up across his entire body, and found his way to the main computer where he fell into the chair. This was too bizarre, and Jason was friends with Bizarro so he knew what bizarre really was. He had come back from the dead and trained with the Al Caste to be the ultimate warrior between life and death- but this. For this to be happening, "How are you here?" he demanded when he could speak again. "Why am I the only one who sees you? Was this Doctor Fate or Constantine?" He asked and Bruce continued to frown at him, "Zatanna?"

Bruce shook his head and let out a hard breath, stealing a moment to himself before he could look at Jason. _I'm here because of you Jason. Not Constantine or anyone else. You are my connection to life and I am your connection to death._

He ran a hand over his eyes, "Why are you speaking in nursery rhymes?"

 _I am here because you are here,_ Bruce told him impatiently, the same way with Jason in death as he was in life- short and always ready to explode on him, _And I'm not so much here as you are on my side of things._

"And what does that mean exactly?" Jason snapped, his own frustration building up.

 _It means that you are dead, Jason._ Bruce snapped back before he could stop himself, holding his hands up to tell Jason to let him explain before he freaked out, _Or partially. Obviously you are not actually dead, but you should be._ And for once Jason didn't have anything to say back to him. He just stared at Bruce and waited for him to finish. _Do you remember, after you died and before Talia took you to the pit, when you woke up in your own coffin with no memory of who you were or how you had gotten there?_

Jason grimaced. "Yes." He remembered. But crawling out of your own grave wasn't something that you easily forgot, even after he had been dipped into the Lazarus pit.

 _We always thought that what happened with Dr. Manhattan was what brought you back._ Bruce shook his head, _I should have looked further, but that doesn't matter now. Jason,_ Bruce hesitated and Jason shook his head, his blood spiking as his heart raced in his chest. The anticipation would literally kill him.

"For the love of god, Bruce. You have been snapping at me to listen for days- just tell me!"

 _You're a metahuman._

"You're kidding." Jason spat out before he could stop himself. "Metahuman? Superman is metahuman. Barry and Hal, well kind of Hal. What's my power, that I can see dead people? My power is the sixth sense?"

 _Your power,_ Bruce said evenly, _Is that you cannot die._

Jason shook his head. He had officially lost it. This was all some fucked up hallucination and it was time that he brought Tim in on it before he actually did die. He was pretty sure that Tim would lose it if that happened. "No." he told Bruce getting up. This was all wrong. He stood up and started towards the door again "You aren't real. I hit my head too hard when we fought that alien last week. Maybe I'm in a coma. Maybe I just-"

 _Died._ Bruce cut in, stepping in front of him. _When that monster hit you, it broke your neck. You died. Not for long, just long enough for everything to snap back into place and make it look like nothing had ever happened. You died, Jason. And then you came back, just like you always do. When you bleed out after a bullet hit you wrong and wake up with a headache and a scar. When you hit your head too hard and get up after being unconscious for a few hours. You have died enough times that little pieces of you have stopped making it back and those pieces are what is keeping me here._ He stepped forward and took Jason's face in his hands, forcing him to look at him. _Those pieces are why I am here. Because if you keep dying like this, Jay- I'm not sure if you can keep coming back._

He closed his eyes, sucking in shaky breath after shaky breath but his hands didn't go away. Bruce didn't go away. And even though every part of him knew that this was crazy, he also had to wonder if he could be right.

Jason had come back for so many things, things that nobody should have been able to come back from. He'd always put it up to luck, luck and circumstance. But when he thought about it, Jason wasn't ever sure if he worried about dying. For someone who had been killed, he didn't think about it happening again and, if he was being honest with himself, he would have embraced it had it happened. It was the one thing in his life that was sure. The one thing that no one else could take from him, and now he wasn't even allowed to die like a normal fucking person?

"I need some air," he said when he could feel his chest start to heave again, the musk of the damp cave walls making him feel lightheaded. He pushed Bruce off of him and did a quick pivot around him when he moved to block him again. Then he bolted up the stairs and through the manner, out onto the lawn where he sank at the base of the oak tree next to the Wayne family graves.

He stared at the headstone that bore Bruce's name. On top of the grave that he had seen his casket lowered into. A casket he had seen Bruce's body in, unlike the empty one in the cemetery that was outside of the city. Bruce was dead. Jason told himself that a few more times before he covered his face with his hands and cursed at the tightness in his throat. Tim had watched him die. Bruce was dead. He leaned back against the tree and breathed in the fresh air, focusing on the way his lungs stretched is chest until it was sore. And he repeated his mantra until he was somewhat calm enough to think about what the spectre had told him.

This wasn't some cosmic thing, it was him. Jason had died and brought the impression of Bruce back with him. No, not an impression- it was the real deal. There was no way that any impression would ever get how frustrating Bruce was correctly on their own. And if Bruce was real, then what he said… Jason was immortal?

He laughed and shook his head. Who the fuck had immortality as a superpower? It was cruel. But then, why was Jason so surprised by that? Life had never exactly been kind to him.

Jason wasn't sure just how long he sat there or when he dozed of, but it was cooler outside when came back to himself, the sound of a blade stabbing into the ground, pulled his attention. Damian was standing in front of the grave with a shovel, tossing the dirt to the side as he dug in. He hadn't gotten very far, maybe a foot deep- but it was still too far. Jason jumped to his feet and yanked the shovel out of his hands.

"Hey!" Damian shouted, grabbing for it but Jason held it out of reach.

He blocked the punch the he threw at him and grabbed his arm. "What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded, throwing the shovel a good three yards across the grass.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Damian snapped dropping to his knees and continuing to dig with his hands. "I am taking my father out of this hell hole and dropping him into the Lazarus pit. We should have done it as soon as Drake let him die."

"Damian."

"You idiots just keep running around here like he isn't coming back. This is his home, not yours. And when I-"

"Damian!" Jason growled and grabbed his wrists, pulling him back up to his feet. The boy tried to yank his arms back but Jason had lost too many things that day, he wasn't going to let him go. "You can't do this."

"Of course I can!" he huffed, looking more like a child than Jason had ever seen from him, "It's my birthright!"

"No." Jason told him, giving him a little shake to make him stop, "It's not. You don't get to choose who lives and who dies just because you want them to. No one should have the right to do that. People deserve to die and stay dead."

Damian was panting now with how hard he was trying to pull away from him, "But you did it!" he breathed hard, his face red.

"This was done to me." Jason corrected him, dropping to his knees, pulling the boy down with him. _I was born like this,_ he allowed the brief thought to run across his mind before he started again. "I didn't come back the same Damian. You have been in the pit. You know that it changes you. I was full of so much hate and resentment when I came back to life that I wanted to kill the joker, I wanted to kill Bruce for letting me die. That wasn't who I was before. It's not who I am now."

Damian wasn't fighting him now, he was just watching him like he wanted to hit him or wanted Jason to hit him. "He's been gone too long D, even if you did bring him back, who knows who it would really be. His heart failed." Damian fell into him, his face in Jason's chest and he held him there, rubbing his back. "He was tired." Damian gripped his shirt tightly. "He wouldn't want to come back like this." he breathed finally and Damian nodded against his chest.

Dick found him in the cave a little later, setting a cup of coffee on the desk next to his hand when Jason didn't look up as he approached. He hesitated and then finished his report, sending it off to the league before he turned his attention to his oldest brother. Dick lifted his own cup and offered him a strained smile before taking a sip. Jason could see Bruce standing just off to the side, giving him a look that said _just try to get along_ and he took the cup off the desk and sipped it. "Thanks." he muttered, letting the warmth hit his stomach and bloom out. He had been cold since that morning.

He watched as DIck leaned against the desk and looked out at the cave, wondering what he had come to tell him. They were quiet for a moment and then he finally started, "Damian apologized to Tim." Jason blinked at him and Dick nodded. "I was surprised too. He isn't exactly the apology type. Even when he's in a good mood. I don't know what you said to him, but it worked."

"Why do you assume I said something?" Jason asked into his mug.

Dick shrugged. "I just know these things." He told him with a lame smile that was just asking to be punched. "Call it an older brother superpower." He laughed, not noticing the hard swallow Jason took at the mention of powers. "Besides you looked like you would have killed him when he yelled at Tim. And the last time we were here…" he trailed off looking uncomfortable at how they had left things. "Well, I was surprised to be invited back. I didn't realised that you and Tim had gotten so close."

Jason's heart thundered dully against his ribs and he bit his bottom lip. This was why Tim had asked them here, wasn't it? He wanted to tell their brothers, to finally be out- be happy. "We've always been close," he said cautiously.

"Didn't you try to kill him?" Dick made a face.

"I've tried to kill all of you, wouldn't want him to feel too special." And Dick really laughed at that making Jason grin in pleasure as he threw his head back. "Dick?" he said when it got quiet again and waited for his full attention. "Tim and I are together. We're dating. We dated when we were younger too but things were… different then. We didn't tell anyone."

"Oh." Dick blinked looking genuinely surprised at him, his cheeks flushing as his hand reached for the back of his neck. "I didn't know you liked…"

"Boys?" Jason offered.

"People." Dick finished with a smirk.

Jason grinned at him. And put his coffee down. "I don't like people." He told him with a sigh, "But I _love_ Tim."

They both looked up as the monitor went off with a red alert. "Looks like Arkham isn't feeling the love." Dick frowned as Jason opened the security stream.

"You up for a field trip?" Jason asked and Dick nodded running off to get suited up.

Damian fell in a few minutes later, nodding begrudgingly at Jason before he headed off to his own suit and Tim pushed into the cave just as he was pulling his own on. "What happened?" he asked pulling out his gear after he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Looks like a break out at Arkham. Subdued for the most part. Only one cell block was broken into." Jason told him zipping the front of his suit and pulling his jacket on. He looked over at Dick and Damian who were checking their equipment and latching their comms on before he grabbed Tim by the elbow and pulled him into the corner of the cave. "Are you sure you are okay to do this?" Jason asked quietly, watching the hurt register in Tim's eyes but knowing that it had to be asked. "You haven't exactly had an easy day. I'd understand if you-"

"We are partners." Tim snapped at him and pulled his arm back, pulling it more fully into his suit. "Batman and Robin. We go together," he said ending the discussion.

Jason watched him walk back to the others and felt his heart sink with a heavy and bad feeling that he couldn't push to the side. Watching them all suit up together knowing that they were all going out on his command. It didn't feel right. Something was off. He was off. "I don't feel good about this," he told Bruce who was leaning against one of the cases next to him. It was the first time that he'd addressed him first and the spectre blinked in surprise.

 _I never once had a good feeling taking you boys out with me._ Bruce told him heavily, _I did it because I had to._

The streets were deserted, making it too easy to get to the prison that was already surrounded by all of the Gotham Police Department. They powered straight through the line and no one stopped as they filed in one after another to the front. The report had been right, it was a fairly contained explosion looking like it had come from the west wing. They followed him threw the first corridor and stopped in front of the ward for the criminally insane.

Dread hit Jason as realisation of why they would be here at the particular ward washed over him. But he stole himself and turned to his team. "Nightwing, take Red and do a perimeter of the outer area. Robin will come with me to make rounds on the cell block."

Tim looked like he wanted to protest but Jason fixed him with a look. Dick and Tim were faster and could get a bird's eye view. If someone had gotten out they were the only chance of catching up and bringing them back. Dick grabbed Tim's arm and tugged until he turned and ran with him, leaving Jason and Damian alone in the loud block of rowdy inmates. "Your comm working?" Jason asked.

"Yeah." Damian grunted grabbing the hilt of his sword.

"Good. Take the right." He told him and ran off down his hall. But he didn't look at the other inmates. He made a beeline for the back, the cell block that held the only inmate that the Joker should ever be interested in getting his hands on, sliding to a stop when the found the max security holding.

He pushed open the door and took a few careful steps inside, drawing his guns in near silence. There was only one cell in this room. A cell that now stood empty. Shit. He pressed his comm. "It's the Joker. He has Quinn," he said quickly, but was interrupted by a sickening, cackling laugh.

Jason dropped his hand, the barrel of his gun followed his eyes up three flights to where the Joker was standing with Harley sitting on the rails. "And here we always thought the winged one was the smarty pants." He grinned. "Maybe I did you a favor, cracking your skull, gave you a few IQ points."

Jason growled and shot at them but they just laughed and retreated higher, Jason sprinting after them. He shot out with his grappler, flying up a few floors and landing heavy footed just behind them as they busted through a window and made their way to the roof. He could hear the others breaking into the cell block behind him as he followed suit, Bruce yelling for him to wait for the others in his ear. But Jason wasn't waiting. He couldn't. If he waited then they would get away. Again. And if they got away, who know what would happen then?

It was raining when he finally reached the top of the roof, a helicopter in the distance, far enough for Jason to feel cocky. He shot, catching Harley in the leg with a taser and she buckled like a pile of rocks. "Looks like your ride is late." He spat and shot again but the Joker stepped out of the way, the humor washed from his face. He pulled a crowbar from his back and the smile that spread his lips thin was malicious at best.

"You shouldn't have done that little bird," he drawled and sprinted for him. Jason shot again but he was too close. He just barely managed to get his bracers up before the crowbar met his face.

The roof was wet and it made it hard for Jason to keep his feet. " _Bats?"_ he heard in his comm but didn't have time to answer before the next blow hit him in the side. Jason lunged for his feet, knocking them both sideways, gun falling out of his hand and skidding off the rounded roof. Jason cursed and scrambled for it but it was already gone and the Joker was looming over him.

He smashed the end of the crowbar into the side of his cowl, the comm ringing in his ear and disorientating him. "Here we are again." He sneered, "Just you and me and a building where daddy can't get to you."

"Bats?" it wasn't coming from his comm now, they both looked over to the side of the roof where his family piled in. Tim looked between the two of them, eyes wide with horror as Dick and Damian charged them.

"Times up. " The Joker snarled and in one fluid movement, he yanked off Jason's utility belt and shoved him over the edge of the roof.

It was fast. Faster than he thought it should have been. The ground rushed up to meet him before he could close his eyes. So he looked back, up at the roof where Tim was screaming, falling, and then hanging above him, with his arm stretched toward him and Jason's name ripping through his throat as his eyes shut.

"Jason!"

Tim was moving before Jason had even left his view. He wouldn't regret this decision. He wouldn't lose another person because he had hesitated. He wouldn't lose Jason. He couldn't.

The world slowed as he reached out for him. Jason's eyes locked on his as they fell together. His wings strained against the wind as he pushed them harder. Jason was just out of reach. Just a few more feet.

Someone grabbed his ankle. He jerked to a stop and time sped up as Jason closed his eyes.

He screamed.

Jason stopped falling.

Dick was yelling at him, he was telling him that he was going to drop him if he didn't stop moving. Tim didn't care. Dick seemed to get that. Dick let him go once they'd gotten low enough and he dropped to his knees, scrambling over the rocks to get to Jason.

"Jay, Jay, no," he whispered over and over as he touched the broken edges of the cowl. He touched his face gingerly. "Jason, come on. Wake up." He placed a kiss softly on his lips. "Please" He folded over and sobbed into his jacket when he didn't move. "You can't leave me," he whispered. Dick touched his shoulder. He slapped his hand away and gripped Jason tighter. "Don't leave me."

"Tim. We need to move him. The police-" Dick's voice was cut off by the wail of a siren.

He blinked as a strange calm fell over him. His fingers found the hidden button on Jason's glove to summon the Batmobile. He pressed it and kissed his hand softly before standing. The car rolled to a stop at the mouth of the alley. Dick stepped forward and moved to touch Jason but Tim pushed him away. He lifted Jason, it didn't feel right letting someone else touch him. Jason's head dropped on his shoulder he hesitated before setting him in the passenger seat of the batmobile. He touched his jawline one last time before shutting the door. Dick had already slid into the driver's seat.

"Tim?" Dick called as he started walking to the end of the alley. He fired his grapple. Dick yelled after him, he pulled his comm out of his ear and dropped it before swinging up onto the rooftops. He tossed his tracker a few rooftops later.

He had a list of every hideout the Joker had ever used. He'd started keeping it after one of the Joker's break outs. Jason hadn't been able to sleep until he'd been caught again. Almost every break out he moved, and another place was added to the list, but this one felt different. It didn't feel as planned out, they wouldn't have gotten caught on the roof if that were the case, because even if the Joker lived to mess with the Bat, he also had enough sense not to get caught on the roof of the place he was trying to escape. Harley was back in Arkham. Robin had reported that while they were waiting on the car.

Tim went to every hideout. He knocked a few thugs out cold, scared an old woman before telling her it wasn't safe there, he marked each place off the list. The sun was starting to come up as he landed on the roof of the next one on the list. He slipped down the fire escape. The window was cracked. He opened it slowly and slid in. The clown was sitting on a stool in the kitchen drinking a shake.

They both paused. Then the Joker set the shake down. Tim's grip tightened on his staff. The man stepped forward a grin growing on his face.

"Are you here to take me back?"

Tim swung. His arm shook with the force of the hit. The Joker stumbled to the ground. He blinked a few times, dazed by the strike.

"You broke his leg, fractured two inches above his ankle," he swung and heard the bone snap. "Kneecap shattered." he swung again. "You didn't want him running away."

"All ten fingers broken." Tim stomped on his hand as the man tried crawling away. The end of his staff came down on the other as the man tried to pry his fingers from under his boot. "Wrists shattered. Defensive wounds. Trying to block the strikes." He swung three times in quick succession.

The Joker started laughing.

He slammed his staff into his ribs. "Five ribs broken. Signs of multiple blows to the torso. A punctured lung." He brought his staff down heavy five more times, his arms shaking with the reverberation each time.

The laughter choked off but continued. "I hit him harder."

Tim swung once at his face, it was a glancing blow at best, but the man spit red.

"Massive internal bleeding." he swung.

"Cracked cranium," he swung.

"Dislocated jaw," he swung.

"Broken nose," he swung.

He swung until the wheezing laughter stopped. He swung until his staff snapped in half. He swung until all he was breathing in the sour smell of blood, until it coated his tongue. Then he stopped and let the remnants of his staff fall to the floor.

Blood was leaking across the wood floor. He stepped back and wiped a drop off his face. His hands were covered. Tim looked at the lump of flesh with the stark white of his skin still peeking out in random places. He pulled off his gloves and walked further into the apartment. He went through the cabinets in the kitchen and found trash bags and pulled them apart. He wrapped the body in plastic and stared at it for a few moments.

He found the restroom and was met with his reflection. There were streaks running down his cheeks where his tears had cleaned away the blood. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed in red. He dropped the gloves in the sink and turned on the faucet, scrubbing his skin until the blood was gone and his skin was puffy and red. He looked at his suit, tacky with the drying blood. He stepped into the shower and watched the water run from red to pink to clear. He needed to do one more thing before he'd burn the suit. He couldn't be Red Robin anymore. Robins needed to believe they could fly, he didn't have anything left to believe in.

He dropped the body on the stairs of the nearest GCPD precinct with the note 'Call Jim Gordon.' he knew that the man would know who he was looking at. He'd let the people know they didn't need to fear the Joker anymore.

"What did you do?" Dick shouted. It echoed in the quiet of the cave. He looked up from where he was studying Jason's face, holding onto his hand so tight his knuckles were white. He had just meant to stop in and say goodbye but he'd been unable to step away once he saw Jason laid out on the table. His suit had been removed and there was a simple sheet draped over him.

"I did what needed to be done."

"We don't kill."

"I'm not one of you anymore."

"Tim. I know you're upset, we all are-"

"You don't know. I just watched the love of my life die. Not even six months after I held my father in my arms as he died. You don't know how I feel. Okay?

"I wasn't going to let that monster kill anyone else. I did what Bruce should have done years ago. I ended his damn game. It's over. Maybe he won, but it's over."

"Tim," Dick sounded scared. Something squeezed his hand. He looked back and Jason's chest was moving. He was breathing. He stood up and leaned over. His eyes fluttered open and Tim saw the flecks of green in his blue eyes light up as the light hit them. He moved, pressing his lips to Jason's before he pulled back away from the chill of his skin.

"Tim?" Jason croaked.

"Yeah, it's me."

"How'd we get here?"

"We brought you here." He looked back at Dick who was staring at Jason.

"What happened? We were in the elevator. You were crying. I-" he touched his chest. "-died."

"Bruce?" Tim asked. Jason's eyes met his. They looked different somehow. He shook his head. That was not possible.

"Yes?"

"No," Dick hissed. "This isn't real. I'm dreaming. You're dreaming. This is all some messed up dream."

He stared at Bruce in Jason's body, he moved differently.

"This isn't happening. We should call somebody. Zatanna. We'll call Zatanna. She'll know something." Dick was pacing just outside the door. He looked on the verge of a breakdown. He hadn't seen Dick that freaked out before. Dick looked back at Bruce who was sitting up and watching his original Robin with that same calm gaze he'd worn in his own body. Dick spun and ran toward the stairs. He watched him leave and then turned back to Bruce who was staring at where he was still holding his hand tightly. Tim let go, his hand aching from holding it for so long.

"Tim?" he shook his head and turned away. He had wanted Bruce back more than anything for months. But not like this. Not after what he'd done.


	4. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Bruce had felt strange all day.

They had been out most of the night before with Dick, securing the location of Penguin's newest pushers, and he'd had two board meetings to prepare for that morning. He and Tim had been up the rest of the night reviewing their presentation- that Bruce ended up having to step out of when he got a call from Damian's school about excessive absences- and then he was on the phone with Clark waiting for him to show up at the Kent's and try to pull Jon in on some mission that he didn't think was important enough to tell him about.

He was exhausted when he stepped into the elevator and gave Tim a look that he smirked at. "What do you say we take a half day?" he asked punching the button for the lobby before Tim could respond and leaned back against the wall.

He felt hot, unbuttoning his collar and pulling it open as a flash of heat ran up his neck and down his left arm. He rubbed it. Tim's words turned to mush as they hit his ears and the sting rocked his bones again making him gasp.

"Bruce?" Tim asked, a report held open in his right hand, the other grabbing his arm to pull his attention. "Everything okay?"

He opened his mouth to tell him that he was fine but there was no air in his lungs and then there was nothing in him at all. His bones fell out of him as he slid to the ground, the hand that he was using to grab Tim's sleeve going numb until he couldn't feel it anymore. His ears were gone. He couldn't hear Tim at all, watching his mouth move wordlessly as he shook him and yanked out his phone dialing frantically and shoving it to his ear. His eyes stopped working, an eerie orange light claiming his vision. And then all there was was the air being forced in and out of his lungs- completely useless to his body that had already given way to the warm nothing that sucked him under.

Bruce had never been under the impression that he would live forever. He had never even fooled himself into thinking that he would be able to fill out his entire natural life span. He had always known that there would be a price to pay for taking on the night- and that Gotham never gave anything away for free.

It was a lonely life, the one he had a chosen for himself. The only kind of life that he was prepared for. With only Alfred to worry about, his world was small enough to justify dying as a noble thing. No one there to rely or depend on him. But also no one to shut him down.

He told himself when he took Dick in as his ward, that the boy was only a precaution. As much as he connected to the story of an orphaned child who lost his parents to the power of the gun, that this child was _not_ his son. He would train him and use him. Mold Dick into being his counter so that if one day Bruce did go too far, he would be able to put him down and take his mantle as the Dark Knight.

He never expected for Dick to make him laugh. For the hurt, angry child he took in to bring a light into the darkness that Bruce had buried himself in for so long. When he took Dick in, he reminded Bruce what it felt like to have a family. What it was like to have something more- than just Gotham and the night. Than himself. But Bruce put too much into him, and when Dick chose to walk away, it hurt.

When he found Jason stealing the tires from his car, Bruce decided that he wouldn't do it again. He didn't need a ward or a partner and if he stepped too far, he would let the superman come and _try_ to take him. He had every intention of dropping him off at a juvenile detainment center, but one look at him caused Bruce to stop. Jason had glared up at him, only eleven years old and not one bit intimidated by the Batman that stood in front of him. His face was dirty. His clothes were torn. He looked like he hadn't eaten in days.

So he took him home. He told himself that he was just keeping him off the street, avoiding an inevitable ending that put a kid like him in the ground before he had the chance to become a man. But Jason was so much more. He was funny and he was smart. Lighter on his feet than you would expect for someone who grew up in the heart of crime alley. He demanded attention and training. And there was so much love in Jason's small body that he didn't know how to give. Bruce wasn't the best suited to teach him that. He didn't know how to be a father, and Jason had been failed by so many people. He'd told Alfred time and time again that he couldn't do it, and it wasn't his place to try.

But he did try. He had _always_ tried. And when it really mattered, Bruce failed him too.

Nothing had ever taken a heavier toll on him, the true loss of a child sending him into a spiral that he consumed in the night- as the Knight. He was done with wards. He was fine without partners. He was unfit to be the father to anyone- and when Dick showed up at the manner with Tim, Bruce knew that he reacted badly.

He was harder on Tim than he deserved. Pushing him to limits that he didn't expect him to reach. He was trying to break him, scare him out of the life he had been following so closely. But Tim met every challenge. He surpassed every expectation. Just a boy born into a good life knowing that he was meant for something more. Bruce saw himself in Tim. He saw who he could have been. And he did his best to hold Tim up as he watched his world fall to pieces around him. Bruce didn't know that he could be a father until Tim needed him to be one. And he didn't know how badly he had needed a son until the papers were signed.

But Damian was a surprise. He had never _felt_ so much. So much anger and frustration. So much fear for this little boy who did not know how to fear. He loved him immediately. He just never knew how to tell him that. But Damian knew, this much he was certain of.

He planned for the death that he knew would happen, taking the time to examine his boys. He watched them, the way they fought, the way they lead, and the way they made decisions. He thought that the choice was clear until Jason managed to surprise him. Again. He staged the death of the Mayor and went undercover with Black Mask as his dark heir, living it up as the villian that Gotham needed to hate. But when the time came to make his allegiance and destroy something innocent. Something that even Bruce would have seen as inconsequential, Jason said no.

Bruce looked at him now, face to face with his son in the darkness around them- the bat symbol scarred onto his chest. He looked into his eyes and saw that there was no anger there, even after everything that had been done to him, and in that moment Bruce had never been more proud.

The orange light pulled him back out of the warm darkness and then he was freezing cold. Air was being forced into him, in and out in sharp, rasping breaths that felt like an electric charge through his body. Everything sounded too loud but muddled all at once. His bones grew back into his body and aches he hadn't felt before made him want to curve into himself. But when his eyes fluttered open and Tim's mouth met his, he jolted into himself, his hand pushing Tim back.

"Tim?" he barely got out. His mouth was dry, making his voice sound strange. How long had he been unconscious?

"Yeah, I'm here" he told him, his eyes full of pain and relief as he took him in. It must have been longer than he thought. Bruce turned to sit up, but Tim kept his hand on his chest holding him down. He wasn't in a suit anymore, and they definitely were not in an elevator. He allowed himself a moment to turn his head, seeing the cave appear before him.

How? Why? "How did we get here?" he asked even though every part of him wanted to ask why. Why had they brought him to the cave? He went down as Bruce Wayne, not Batman. If they had brought him here...

"We brought you here." Tim told him, looking over Bruce to Dick who was staring at him as white as a sheet. He was in his suit. Something was wrong here.

He quelled the rising panic with a practiced calm, his last moments in the elevator rushing by him in a blur of memories. "What happened?" he asked. "We were in the elevator. You were crying. I-" his hand went up to his chest just as Tim's came up off of him. The warm darkness poking at the corners of his mind and for some reason he thought of Jason as he said, "-died."

Tim stepped away from him and Bruce saw his own wall fall into place as he asked, "Bruce?"

He frown at him. "Yes?"

"No." DIck hissed. Bruce sat up and listened to him babble in panic as he paced just far away from them that he could still run if he needed to. He looked like he was ready to pass out, fight him, or sprint off at any moment. He watched wordlessly as he bolted up the stairs and turned his attention to Tim who was looking more and more green as each moment passed.

"Tim?" the boy's eyes found him again and he shook his head turning away from him, his shoulders starting to shake.

Bruce stood up too quickly, stumbling a little when his feet hit the floor. He felt different. He felt lighter but also heavier and each movement was a struggle like his entire body was a giant bruise. He grabbed the sheet that had been lain over him and pushed his way to the uniform area, searching for the spare clothes that he always kept as a spare. He pulled the jeans on, but they fit looser than they should have and the shirt fit wrong on his shoulders.

He was confused until he turned back towards Tim and caught sight of his reflection in the glass casing. The air caught in his lungs and his heart fell out into his gut.

And Bruce gave himself one minute. He gave himself _one_ minute to feel the panic and the pain of seeing Jason's face staring back at him. To realise why his sons had looked at him like he was a ghost.

And then he squashed it. He pushed his way back to Tim with a purpose, taking him by his shaking shoulders and pulling him around. "Tim," he said again but it wasn't a question. He had seen Tim break before and he was not about to let that happen now. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened. All of it. Now."

But Tim didn't say anything, he turned again and heaved sick across the stone floor again and again. Bruce pat his back but Tim shivered away from his hand. He opened his mouth to call him again but just managed to move out of the way as the blade of Damian's sword hit the ground hard where his feet had been. "Damian," He tried in a calming tone but that only seemed to make him more angry.

He kicked at Bruce, who parried the blow and shouted, "Imposter!" as he yanked his sword out of the stone and jumped at him again.

They didn't have time for this. Bruce stepped easily out of the way and grabbed his hood as he flew past him, pulling Damian over his shoulder and hard onto the ground. He tried not wince as he kicked his sword away from him and held him down with one hand holding both of his.

Dick was back and he was staring again as Tim continued to dry heave next to them. "You _are_ Bruce." he breathed looking like he wanted to be sick too.

"I am." he agreed stiffly and let go of Damian. "So tell me what the hell is going on."

He sat on the exam table as Zatanna and J'onn poked at him. They pulled blood and cast spells and went through every test they could think of for hours on end. No one said anything to him. Clark had been following them around since they got to the tower right around the time that they did. His face had fallen when he saw Jason's body come out of the Zeta beam, "I heard Bruce's heart." he said sounding unusually breathless- which was nothing compared to how he looked after Tim told him what had happened.

"This isn't possible." he said standing against the wall.

"You've said that," Zatanna told him annoyed, sweat glistening across her forehead as she concentrated.

"Well it's not." Clark snapped pushing off of the wall and pacing across the room. "You don't remember anything?" Clark asked him. Again. "Nothing at all? You were dead for eight months."

"The last memory I have is of Tim in the elevator." He told him calmly as he looked over at Tim who was still cowering in the corner, barely able to look at him. "Then everything was warm. I thought about the boys. I saw-" _Jason._ He swallowed hard, wondering if that was the moment, The moment that Jason had died. The moment his son had fallen in yet another line of fire that Bruce had lead him into.

"Jason?" Zatanna asked, her eyes looking surprisingly clear as she asked. He nodded and she pursed her lips looking at J'onn who was reading his reports, the most worried that Bruce had ever seen him.

"I didn't see this in my last test." he admitted looking up at Clark who stopped pasing. "It seems that Jason's genetic structure is not entirely human."

"What do you mean?" DIck demanded. 

"I mean to say that Jason is a meta human."

"How do you miss that?" Clark asked.

"I was not looking for it before." He said simply and threw the report up on the screen. "In one look at Jason he seems completely normal- but when you did deeper, you can see that his cells are cancerous in nature. When they are torn apart or broken down they can multiply at a rapid rate, essentially regenerating all tissue and bodily fluid."

"So Jason…" Bruce closed his eyes wondering how he could have gone so long without figuring this out. "Is immortal?" he asked.

"No one is completely immortal." Zatanna cut in, her gaze piercing. "This last death was different than the other ones. He fell too hard and when he hit the ground it knocked his soul completely out of him." She looked back to Bruce. "This is more Constantine's area of magic." she told him apologetically.

"Call him." Clark told her and she nodded rushing out of the room. Clark turned his attention to Bruce then and looked him over with hungry eyes. "You should stay at the tower. Until we know what's going on."

Bruce shook his head and stood up. "I can't do that." he told Clark who looked like he wanted to argue more than anything but Bruce didn't let him. "I am on borrowed time, Clark." he told him softly, "I don't know how much time I have, but I do know that I am not supposed to be here." He glanced over at Dick and Tim, Damian was still standing next to him, clinging onto his arm in stone silence since he had gotten up. "I need to be with my sons while I can." he muttered and Damian clenched only his arm again, effectively breaking his heart.

Tim left as soon as they got back to the cave, walking straight from the zeta port to the door back to the manor without saying a word. Bruce watched Dick watch Tim curiously but he didn't ask. He let Damian and Dick take him upstairs to their home, pleased to see that the only change was the sign of it being lived in. There were jackets hanging at the door and shoes in the closet. Books had been pulled off shelves and brought into the sitting room and the television was still on from before they had left for the mission that killed Jason.

His heart clenched at that. Even when he was in his body and knew that there was still a chance he was there somewhere, he couldn't bear the thought that Jason had died. That he kept dying. What kind of life was that to live?

They sat together for a long time, Alfred making a fuss to show that he was happy to get to see him but worried about the man he had taken over. Damian fell asleep after a few hours and Dick watched the boy with heavy eyes. "Bruce?" he asked after silence fell over them again.

"Yes?"

"Why did you leave it to Jason?" he asked, a flush running up his face at the resentment that he wasn't able to hide.

Bruce frowned at Dick before he let his eyes fall onto Damian. He ran a hand over his hair and pressed his lips together when the sleeping boy swatted it away and turned into the couch. "I asked you to do the job before." he told Dick slowly. "You did everything right, Dick. You stuck to the code, you kept the streets clean. But most importantly, you took care of my son when I couldn't. You earned his respect, his love. In a way you are the first real father that Damian ever had." Dick was watching Bruce when he looked back up. "He needs you. More than Gotham needs you. You always saw the night as a job, Jason sees it as a life. He needs it more than you do. You needed Damian. Jason needed Tim."

Dick frown again, nodding. "Did you know… About Tim and Jay?"

Bruce nodded, his heart throbbing again as the incident that brought him there crossed his mind. "How bad was it."

And when Dick met his gaze again, it was hard. "It was bad. Really bad." He ran a hand through his hair. "He dove off the roof after him and didn't even try to stop his fall. If I hadn't caught him- and I almost didn't catch him… it would have… he wouldn't."

Bruce put his hand on Dick's shoulder. "You _did_ catch him." he reminded him, but when Dick didn't respond he asked, "What are you not telling me?"

DIck swallowed again.

It felt odd to be so unnoticed walking through Gotham. Everyone had known Bruce Wayne, his face was as commonplace as the bat signal. He drew attention no matter where he went and as he walked anonymously through the streets of his city, he got an eerie feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with being dead or the conversation he was about to walk into.

Tim's building was familiar. He had been there hundreds of times. Only a few when he was invited, but sometimes he would stop by when he patrolled on his own, looking in to see if Tim had actually gone to sleep or if he was burning the candle at both ends again. It was almost always the latter. Tim had a busy mind, Bruce related to that. Sometimes it was a blessing but most of the time, it just made it easier for it to snap. The doorman greeted him with a nod and a kind smile and Bruce wondered just how often Jason came here. Often enough for the doorman to remember him, to like him? He stepped into the elevator and punched in the floor number, closing his eyes as he traveled up.

He didn't knock. He checked the scanner with his thumb and the door opened easily at his touch. He could hear things being moved around, Tim mumbling to himself as he threw things out of his room and stopped dead when he walked into the living room and saw Bruce there.

There was panic in his eyes and he looked around for any means of escape. Bruce took a second to collect himself, knowing that he had to be the one to start this, before he was gone and they never had the chance. "I thought about doing it." he told him and Tim froze, completely still. "After Jason died and they brought back the autopsy. I memorized every detail, every break and ever hit that he put on him I told myself I would put back on him. I told myself that everyday for months. I thought that _that_ loss, the death of a fourteen year old boy in my care would be what finally broke me."

Tim's lip was trembling and he breathed in deeply through his mouth, watching Bruce like he wasn't sure is he was going to vomit or start crying again. He looked so much like he did after his father died that Bruce had to fight himself to stay still. "Why didn't you?" Tim asked. It was an accusation more than a question. An accusation that he made to the man wearing his dead boyfriend's body.

Bruce took a full breath through his nose, staring up at the ceiling, the smallest of smiles twitching at the corner of his lips. "Dick brought you to the manor. And I let all of my anger out on you." he swallowed, his throat swelling as he looked at the boy he'd helped to pull apart. His son that he had left behind. That he'd hurt, maybe more than anyone, without ever wanting to. "I pushed you too hard. I made you stronger than any of them because I couldn't let you break." Tears were streaming down Tim's face now as he stood in the center of the living room. "I left you an impossible job to do." He stepped forward and this time Tim didn't move. "I wanted you to stay with Jason because you balance each other. You are the logic and he is the fire. And I knew that if he was gone, if you had to go through this again, that you may not come back from it." He held Tim by his shoulders, his own eyes filling. "This is not your fault." he told his son slowly, letting every word sink into him. " What happened to _me_ was not your fault."

His lip trembled and he looked at Bruce- no he looked at Jason with a guilt and a hunger that shot pain through his core. "This isn't fair." he choked. "This, you here as... _him._ " a sob rocked him. "It's such bullshit!"

 _Tim._

He saw when Bruce's attention was drawn away from him. His eyes darted to look over his shoulder. He'd seen Jason do the exact same thing too many times. They'd be talking and Jason would look over his shoulder as if someone else has spoken. He'd seen it. Tim knew that Jason had been hiding something. He'd never been open about how the Pit had affected him. So he let him keep it to himself.

"Bruce." When Bruce's eyes moved back to him he looked confused, and a little sad. "What just happened?"

"I thought I heard Jason," Bruce said quietly.

He turned as Bruce looked past him, but they were alone. He'd known they were alone from the beginning, but he wanted nothing more than to turn around and Jason be standing there, grinning at him. "What did he say?"

Bruce looked at him. "Your name. It was so clear like he was right here."

"I think. I think Jason might have been hearing you. He'd get distracted when we were in the cave. I couldn't tell you how many times I walked in on him having an argument with himself. But it always sounded like he was arguing with you." Bruce made a face, so he explained. "There's just something that changes about his voice. Like he's forcing himself to sound irritated. He only does - did - it when he talked to you."

"But I was dead."

"He told me I made you cry. I thought he was just being an ass to make me laugh. But if you were there… Do you remember anything?"

Tim saw Bruce thinking, trying to remember. Bruce touched his chest. He bit his lip against the pain of that memory, of being in the elevator again flooded through him. "Damian," Bruce said. Jason's voice was rough with emotion.

"What?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest. "What about Damian?" he reached for his phone.

"No. I remember being disappointed in him, and upset."

"Why would you - Damian has barely even been here. Were you with him too?" he opened his phone and scrolled to Dick's name.

"I don't think so. Jason was angry with me. I don't know why, but I remember being upset and Jason just looking at me with so much anger."

Tim closed the phone. He was pretty sure he knew what he was talking about. "That was the morning he died."

He moved toward his laptop sitting on his coffee table. He had Wayne Enterprises paperwork open on it but he minimized it quickly and pulled up the manor's security camera feeds. It was a quick search. He knew the time and the room.

It felt strange listening to his own voice and watching himself start to cry. He could see it coming in the deep breath he'd taken seconds before the first tear dropped. Jason moved immediately, wrapping him up like he could shield him from the world.

"Jason," Bruce said. "Tim, I can see him." Bruce was looking just beyond him.

He couldn't look. He couldn't look and not see Jason. He paused the feed. "Ask him if he knows how he can get back," he only looked to Bruce. He kept his voice steady even as his emotions were pressing at the wall he'd put them behind.

"He said he doesn't know. He just woke up and has been following his body ever since." Bruce was studying him. It was a little surreal. He shut his laptop and stood up.

"We should do tests. I have some things here, but the cave has more equipment. If that's okay?"

"Yes?" Bruce said, the tiniest lilt to his voice belied his curiosity.

"He's standing by Dick, making faces," Bruce said. Dick waved his arm to get him to stop. Bruce pointed to the other side and Dick did it again. "I didn't see him while we were driving over here."

"We'll figure that out later," Tim commented and placed two files on the table next to Bruce. "We have Jason's original autopsy report, and his new one. He's come back twice now from massive trauma. If this has happened before there should be signs on his body."

"I'll take the x-rays," Dick said sounding too forcefully chipper. Bruce went with Dick over to the x-ray machine.

He stared warily at the old dogeared file. He didn't need to go over those again. Tim knew what Jason's scars from his time with the Joker looked like. He'd spent entire nights, unable to get back to sleep, studying them.

Bruce walked back in after a while. He coughed awkwardly. Tim blinked and focused on the skin in front of him. It was Jason. Jason's body, his freckles and ticklish spots, the arm in his hand jerked as he pressed on one unintentionally. He moved across to the next, mentally cataloging each new mark. There were so many. He counted eight bullet wounds, three stitched up cuts, and a jagged tear around his thigh that he couldn't place. He was almost done when he caught a two inch cut, the edges were clean and he couldn't see any stitch marks. "Tim, are you done?" Bruce asked, his voice was tight.

He realized where he was in that moment and quickly stood. "Yeah. Yeah. I'm done. I'm going to go compare with Dick," he rushed out of the room, his face on fire. Thankfully, Dick didn't say anything.

"His neck was broken. There are two nicks on his ribs that look like they would have hit a lung. If it was strong enough to mark his bone it would have killed him right?"

"I count five certain deaths and one that is a possibility." He pointed to the x-rays. "There was a cut on his inner thigh that looked new, and it didn't look like anyone had sewn it up."

"How new?" Dick asked.

"I don't know, kind of like my ribs? Maybe a little older." His scar itched as if it knew he'd been talking about it.

"He would have been here when it happened. If we could see it on camera, then maybe we can figure out how it happens."

Tim was already moving to the computer before Dick had finished his sentence. They would have noticed him if he'd passed out in the cave, he had to have if he died from that wound, it could only be blood loss.

He pulled up the camera to Jason's room and set it to the fastest it could go. He started from the day Jason died and worked back. Bruce joined them after a few days passed on the screen.

"There," Bruce said hitting keyboard and pausing it on his bed without sheets. Alfred always replaced sheets as he changed them. They scrolled through the time slowly. Jason walking backwards into the room with a ball of stained sheets in his hand came on screen. They jumped to eight hours before and played the video.

Jason went to sleep like normal. An hour or so into his sleep he started tossing and turning. He hit mute as Jason's voice rose. Dick looked over at him. He knew what he'd say, Bruce didn't need to hear it. The stain appeared a few minutes later, and it grew slowly. He gripped the edge of the table as he watched the nightmare grow worse. Then Jason went still, too still.

Tim leaned forward. Jason was dead, there on screen. He'd died in the manor and no one had noticed. No one had been there. Jason had died six times without anyone noticing. Jason jolted up like he was waking from the nightmare six hours later. He pulled the sheets off the bed and left the room. They all were silent as the screen played through.

A thought hit him. "He died during the alien attack. The broken neck. Clark tried to tell me. I didn't want to believe him though. I think he just thought he misheard when Jason was alive when they dug us out. I had thought he was dead when I reached him. I'd begged him to wake up, and he did. I was just so relieved that he was okay, I didn't want to think about how he'd looked when I found him."

"People aren't meant to come back to life. It's not your fault you didn't notice." Dick said.

"Then whose is it? Is it Bruce's for not realizing he had meta abilities? For burying the body of a boy that would wake up in his grave? Talia's for putting him in the pit and warping his mind until he forgot who he'd been? All of the thugs and villains in Gotham for killing him seven times? He died seven fucking times and none of us noticed. I didn't even notice he'd been stabbed that night." he pointed to the screen. "Do you know why? Because I'd been shot after you disobeyed orders?

"Everyone keeps saying it's not my fault. But you know what. It has to be. Everyone around me dies. My mother, my father, my best friend, all of you... Everyone I care about has died. So maybe it's just fate that Jason's immortal since I'm just going to keep getting him killed. Maybe I should just kill you now and Jason will come back."

"Tim-" An alarm blared through the cave. The Justice League was calling. Cyborg came on the screen a few seconds later.

"There's an emergency." Dick was already heading for his suit.

"Go. They need Batman. You're it."

"I was angry." He admitted when Bruce got back from fighting with the Justice League. Dick had gotten a call from the Titans, so it was just them in the cave. He knew that it was the only reason Bruce was even bringing up his words.

"It's not a terrible idea," Bruce said.

"Yes it is. I'm not killing you."

"Tim. It should work."

He looked at Bruce. He was serious. He closed his eyes against the idiocy of the idea. "And if it doesn't? Then both of you will be dead."

"There is a risk with anything we do."

"It's not a risk I'm going to take." He spread his palms across the desk trying to stay calm. "There has to be another way."

"I don't think there is. Jason agrees with me."

His hands tightened into fists. "You can't do that," he looked over to Bruce. "Why me? You could do it yourself, could ask anybody else."

"It would lower the risk. Jason wants to come back to you."

Tim's heart fluttered at those words. It would be easy, he would make sure it was painless. But when he thought of Jason going still in his bed on screen, he shook his head. "I'm not doing it." He pushed off the desk. "Let me know if Zatanna comes back with anything."

"Where are you going?"

"Home. I have work in the morning."

 _I told you he wouldn't do it._ Jason told Bruce, annoyed from being ignored for the entire conversation. He'd been hard to block out- but Bruce had had lots of practice controlling his expression.

Bruce took his time changing. Setting Jason's suit back up in its case next to his own. It was strange seeing it there. Next to Jason's Robins costume- a retired relic of its dead owner starting to collect dust. He was careful as he pulled Jason's sweats on, not to look at the scars that he now knew were fatal. Scars that had ended Jason's life over and over without the family even knowing he was hurt. He wondered what would have happened if Jason had not been meta human. If he had still somehow managed to come back and just… died again. Would Bruce had known? Would he have tried to find him if he'd been gone for too long or would he have just let him go?

He avoided Jason's gaze as he moved to type up his report on the Justice League mission, expecting to feel the familiar ache in his back but that still belonged to his body. Jason was younger, and even though he was scared, his body was healed. Just another reminder that he was on borrowed time.

 _You were wrong to ask him that._ Jason told him as Bruce let his hands clatter over the keys. He ignored it. But Jason had never taken well to being ignored. _Don't you think he's been through enough?_ Jason demanded, moving to pull the chair back, but his hands couldn't grab it. He growled, frustration leaking out of him.

Bruce closed his eyes, taking a moment to breath deeply through his nose and collect himself, righting his thoughts before he shouted at the boy. "You don't think the others have been through _enough_?" he asked Jason pushing the chair back from the desk, he stood up, staring into the angry mirror that was the spectre in front of him. "Damian was raised to be a killer. He has worked so hard to get that out of him. To set his head straight and focus on being a hero instead of a weapon. Do you think it is a good idea for me to ask him to push that aside and murder his father? His brother?" Jason seethed silently and blinked back at him.

Bruce continued. "Dick lost everything before this. He was stripped of his identity and murdered in front of millions of people. And when he came back, I asked him to lose himself further, to dishonor our code- all to keep the League safe. I have already asked too much of him. I will not ask him to do this as well."

Bruce swallowed, focusing on the heart beating in his chest, focusing on keeping it even and slow. "Yes, Jason. Tim doesn't deserve this. He's been through so much. He had lost so much. But you-" Bruce shook his head, feeling his wall slipping. The pain and the shame that always came up in a bile in his throat when he thought of all of the ways that he had failed Jason tainting his mouth with a sour taste. "We should have known. All of us should have known that you weren't okay. Even when you made it hard and even when you ran away- we failed you. I failed you." his voice cracked and Jason looked up from where he had been staring at the floor, his hands balled into fists at his side. " _You_ deserve to wake up to the person you love. Even if it's hard."

Tim stared at the wall as Zatanna ran her final test, Constantine chattering next to her as they went over their options. He was still in his suit from the office, tie discarded on their way over and his shirt unbuttoned enough to show the collar of the white shirt under it. Bruce watched him, looking for any sign of the conversation that they'd had yesterday. But Tim had always been very good at hiding what he was really thinking about. He wasn't like Dick and Jason who wore everything on their sleeve or in their fist. Jason was watching him too, uncharacteristically quiet since the cave. The way he watched Tim was the worst part. The silent need for him screaming across the distance between them. Bruce had seen it before. When they were younger, thinking that they were hiding their relationship from everyone.

He forced his attention back to Constantine who was in the middle of saying something about spirits and asked. "If Jason was killed again, is it possible that his soul would come back to his body?"

Tim stiffened and the Mystics both blinked in shock. _Bruce._ Jason snapped, but he kept his eyes forward.

Constantine was the first to speak. "Well… yeah?" he said after the silence turned awkward. "I mean it seems like that would be the clearest method." He looked to Zatanna who looked horrified. "The worst that could happen is that Bruce comes back again and then we try something else."

 _Or something else comes back._ Jason added only for Bruce. He chose not to share that.

They spent an hour discussing the best methods, going over what they had found out by looking into the autopsies and various wounds. They were going between cutting an artery or shooting him when Tim finally chimed in. "We should break his neck." he deadpanned, still staring at the wall, his arms crossed over his chest to hold himself together. "He came back in two minutes. We would know almost immediately."

Zatanna nodded and headed for the door. "I'll get Clark then."

But Tim stopped her. "No." he said staring at Bruce, an anger in his acceptance that even his expert wall could not mask. "This is a family matter."

The League watched as they left, all of them lined up silently at the Zeta without saying a word of the goodbye that was in the air. Bruce watched them, his friends and colleges as they disappeared and fell back to the cave- and for the first time Bruce thought about what was going to happen. He was going to die again. And he would not be coming back. He'd expected to feel more afraid, sad that he was leaving everything behind again. But mostly he felt at peace. At peace with the decisions that he had made. At the life he could see his sons living without him. And he felt at peace in the way he would leave this world a second time, in the same arms that held him in the first.

It only took an hour to get everyone together. An hour to tell them what was about to happen and to let things settle in. Dick fought the hardest, not that anyone was surprised, insisting that they could find another way to get him back- and when that failed, that he could stay a little longer. But that wouldn't be fair. He looked at Tim who had been avoiding him since the Tower and at Jason who was staring pointedly at the ground. He wouldn't tell Bruce that he had to leave. He would let him stay, holding his body hostage for however long that he wanted. He had always been the most demanding an unselfish child, to take advantage of that was wrong. He wouldn't do anymore wrongs in this life.

But there was one thing. One moment that he needed to take.

Damian followed him quietly through the manor and out onto the lawn. Out past the well shaped bushes and flower beds, past the great Oak tree his grandparents has planted, past Titus' dog house, passed his own grave and coming to a stop in front of the two well worn headstones that he had come to know so well. They stood there not saying anything for a long time until finally Damian broke the silence. "Why are we here?" he asked.

Bruce swallowed and looked around them, if Jason was there he had given him as much privacy as he could. "I never got to say goodbye to my parents." He told him softly to cover the gruffness of his voice. "They were good people. Good parents. I never got to thank them or tell them that I loved them, that I was sorry." He put his hand on Damian's shoulder, still staring at the stones. "I'm sorry, Damian. Thank you. I love you."

Everyone was waiting in the cave. Damian slid in next to Dick who was holding Barbara's hand. Kate was behind Stephanie and Cass, her own wall held up. Everyone was grim and silent as Bruce dropped to his knees in front of them, looking around at his odd little family that had collected over the years. Everyone accept Jason. Jason deserved to be there too.

Alfred was holding Tim up at his shoulders, helping him step forward until he was right in front of Bruce, his hands trembling with his bottom lip. Tim placed his hands on his chin and one on the back of his head. His eyes were glassy as he looked down at Bruce and he could not imagine how hard this must be for him. KIlling his father while looking at his lover. But he didn't say anything. He just nodded and Tim nodded back and then everything ended with a loud crack.


	5. Chapter Five

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Jason had always assumed that he would die young. When you grew up in Crime Alley, everyone did. No one got to escape that inevitability. You grew up, you dropped out. You worked on the docks for minimum wage and then if you were lucky, and if you were big enough, someone would hire you for job that wasn't on the books. You were raised to know how to survive. If not by your parents, then by the street you were dumped on. You learned how not to be afraid and how to channel your fear into your fists. So when Bruce found him, Jason was ready for the fight.

They fought like it was a sport. Loud and long lasting, creating divots in their own skin with words that could not be as easily repaired as the wounds the street left on them. And Jason fought him because he didn't know how not to. He didn't know how to drop the anger out of his fear and admit that being with Bruce, not being Robin and not running around with Batman- but being with Bruce, being his ward, scared the shit out of him. Because having a family was the one things that Crime Alley had taught him nothing about.

Jason looked at him now, standing before him in the same suit he had died in. Not in the cowl on a rooftop somewhere saving the world, but as the man that had taken a hungry kid off the street and given him an outlet to channel all of that anger into. Not his father, not the man who raised him- but the man who saved him from being just another dead kid from Crime alley. And it hurt.

-Almost everything hurt. Jason felt foggy as the orange light of consciousness started to cloud over his closed eyes, like he had taken too much cold medicine or slept for an entire day. His back hurt. His neck hurt. His legs were sore in strange places and as the memory of what had happened came back to him he wasn't surprised that he hurt. The Joker had dropped him. He'd fallen off of a building and somehow come out the other side. He listened for a moment, expecting to hear the steady beep of machines keeping him alive, but all he could hear was an echoing sob resonate around him.

He peeled his eyes open slowly, expecting a harsh light to greet him, but it was dim and damp and nothing like the scene he'd passed out to. He wasn't in the hospital, he was in the cave. He was on the floor of the cave? Jason pushed himself up, arms feeling weak and his head swimming in an almost dizzying way. The entire family was crowded around Alfred who was holding Tim squarely to his chest as he sobbed hard enough to shake his entire body.

Seeing Tim crying, pulled at him- forcing Jason to his feet before his body was ready for him to stand. He stumbled and caught himself loudly on a chair to his right, just barely managing to keeping himself up. Barbara screamed and Jason winced, his hand jumping up to hold the side of his head. "Why…?" he started as he looked around at all of their pale faces, watching him like he was a ghost. It was too much. He focused on Tim who was watching him with his guarded tear streaked face. "Why are we back in the cave?" he asked. "Did you catch me?"

The wall fell and Tim threw himself at Jason, hugging him so hard that it knocked them backwards and onto the floor. Jason held him in his lap and let Tim cry into his shoulder, burying his face in his hair to breathe in his scent as he rocked him and muttered that it was okay and that he was there over and over. The others started dispersing as they sat there until it was just them, Dick and Alfred left in the cave. They sat patiently and a little sadly for as long as it took for Tim to calm down and looked away when he kissed Jason so passionately that he was tempted to skip the explanation and take him upstairs.

Dick cleared his throat after a moment and Jason peeled his face away painfully from Tim to glare at him. "How are you feeling?" he asked when Tim scooted off of his lap.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Sore but…" the fight at Arkham flashed in front of him again and his drew his brows together. "How long have I…"

But looking between the three of them, he knew that that was not the right question. Something had happened. Something bad. Something that they didn't want to tell him. "What happened?"

Tim's grip tightened on his hand as Dick told him what had happened since Arkham. Since he _died_. About how Bruce had come back in his body and lived as him for a few days. And Jason didn't know how to feel. Angry that he had missed it- that everyone else had gotten to see Bruce and be with him again except Jason. Who still had so many questions that would never get answered and so many thing he needed to take back. Scared that he wasn't what Bruce thought he was. That he had some crazy meta power that meant he wasn't exactly human. Or relieved. Relieved that he wasn't losing his mind. They he hadn't been just seeing and hearing things for the past few months. That there was a _reason_. For all of… this.

He listened to the whole story quietly only asking, "And the Joker? Did you catch him?" When it was over.

The grip that Tim had on his hand was crushing then and Dick's eyes floated to the man next to him. "The Joker isn't a problem anymore." was all he said, a slight edge to it as he stood up, holding his hand out to them where they were still on the floor to help them to their feet.

They went to Tim's apartment that night, not wanting to be near the others or the cave- needed time with each other where they didn't have to put up a front for anyone else. Jason convinced Tim to call into work and they stayed in bed the entire day going between sleeping and watching each other for hours, not saying a single thing. And Jason didn't know what he was supposed to say. Sorry? That he died. That he left Tim to his own demons and asked him to kill him.

But Jason hadn't asked. "I told him to ask Dick." He said softly as some point either early in the morning or late at night after a full day had passed and things stopped feeling so blurry. "He told you that I wanted you to do it, but I told him to ask Dick."

Tim blinked at him, his eyes misting over again and he shook his head. "I can't." he told him in a whisper. "Watching you die," a tear rolled down his cheek into the pillow, "I can't do it again. I won't." He sat up and let the covers ripple into his lap.

Jason sat up after him, letting his hand caress his shoulder, down his arm that felt too cold. "It won't happen again." He told him.

Tim flinched away from him. "It already did, Jay." he snapped at him. "You've died at least six times since you came back. Six times without any of us noticing!"

"But I'm fine." he begged him to see that.

"But _I'm_ not." Tim told him, voice breaking again as he pulled his hands into his chest that was heaving out slow and shaky breaths. "Jay, I… I killed the Joker because he hurt you. I broke the code. I…" He closed his eyes, "I can't let that happen again." he shook his head and when Tim opened his eyes there was a resolve there that scared Jason more than any of the horrors he had ever seen.

"What are you saying?" Jason asked him, trying to build up a wall like he would see Bruce do. A wall he could never quite keep up. Not with Tim.

"I'm saying that I can't be with you, Jay." his voice shook again. "As long as you are in the suit. I can't."

And it hurt so much worse than the first time. The time that had ended in an explosion of anger and hurt. All of that passion now was rolled up into a ball in his chest, keeping his lungs from contracting and his voice small enough that he could barely say, "Gotham needs a batman." He swallowed and stared at the bed between them, remembering what Bruce had told him in the cave just days ago. He didn't deserve this. None of them did, "I can't ask Dick."

Tim bridged the gap between them and took his face in his hands to force him to look him in the eye. "I'm not asking you to."

Jason breathed in his closeness for as long as he could let himself without falling apart. "What _are_ you asking?"

"I'm asking you to come find me when you are done."

The drive back to the manor was long and he took it entirely too fast, the anger and hurt that he hadn't allowed himself to feel in front of Tim only numbed by the lights flying by him. He had asked too much of Tim. Again. And he had lost him. Again. And even with the promise of a distant future- Jason felt for the first time that he understood the true weight of everything that Bruce had take onto his shoulders. Why he hadn't thought of the cowl as a gift. Gotham was a curse. It was a dark streak in a light sky. It was a city full of murderers and thieves and the worst people that you could imagine- but it was also his _home_.

It was Tim's home.

It had been Bruce's home.

And now it was Jason's job to make sure that it was safe for its people to have a normal life in, regardless of what he wanted or what he needed. Even if that meant going it alone.

He pulled into the cave and it woke up at his touch, displaying everything that Jason was fortunate enough to have at his disposal to help with his one mission. And it felt cold. And it felt empty. And even though he could hear Dick and Damian arguing about something pointless from where they had left the bookcase entry open, completely unaware that the entire world had just changed- It wasn't until he sat down at the computer and saw the still steaming cup of tea that had been placed there that Jason thought that maybe he wouldn't have to go it _so_ alone after all.


	6. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

"So B was running around and conked his head on the hilt of one of Damian's swords. You should have seen Damian's face. You'd think he'd just watched his baby brother get decapitated or something." Tim smiled as Dick showed him the picture of his youngest son's Batman bandaid. Damian was holding him in the picture and the littlest Grayson was smiling at his brother like he'd hung the moon. "Babs was pissed when she got home. He wasn't supposed to be in the cave."

"Are her and Damian doing better?" he asked.

"Sometimes," Dick shrugged. "She doesn't think he's ready. I mean he's only 21. I don't even want him to be ready, but he insists that he is. He gave us this big speech a few nights ago about wanting to do everything he could to keep the city safe for his family, for his brother and soon to be sister. He cried. It was really touching." Dick looked happy. Not long after he retired Dick and Barbara finally stopped flirting around their feelings and gave it a real shot. Their son, Bruce, was three and Barbara was pregnant with their second. "I don't know why he's so insistent that the bean is a girl."

They ate in a comfortable quiet for a little bit.

"I saw you on the front page of the paper last night. Big benefit," Dick said in that way he had that made you want to tell him your life story just because you knew he'd listen.

"One of the online sources forgot to even mention the benefit," he scoffed. "All they cared to talk about was that I didn't bring a date. Again."

"You know that the fact that no one knows anything about your private life just makes them think you're hiding something extra juicy. That's why Bruce always made a show so they'd stop at the cover."

"Well if things go as I hope they will, I'll have a date to the next one." He smiled and took a sip of his drink. He watched Dick's face roll through a series of emotions, confusion, anger, more confusion, and then finally the realization struck.

"No shit?"

"I hope so."

"Oh thank God." Dick said leaning back in his chair. "Don't get me wrong I'd support you either way, but I was so not prepared to deal with a mopey Jason if you turned him down. When he's not drilling Damian, he's practically floating around the manor humming stupid songs." He smiled. Dick looked like he was second away from breaking into a full on interrogation.

"Aren't you going to be late for your appointment?" he offered instead.

"Fuck, I am." Dick checked his watch and jumped to his feet. "They think we'll hear the heartbeat this time." Dick was beaming, but paused and reached for his wallet.

"I have this. Go. Tell me all about it on Friday."

"The calculations aren't correct. If the polymer doesn't adhere properly people can die. Start over. "

When Lucius retired he had taken over the private tech department. He'd hired one of Duke's friends, Ryan, to make all the gear. He'd been particularly savvy while working with Jason's new guns. Together they'd created stronger armor, without restricting movement. Watching Dick stand back up after getting shot point blank in the chest had been worth all of the complications they'd had while working on it. He wasn't sure if anyone knew how hands-on he was. He made sure that he wasn't there when the family came by to pick up their repaired hardware or newest gadget. Jason still spent hours in the workshop bouncing ideas off of Ryan. Tim would always see a project spec for a new projectile after those marathons.

When the request for a new Batman suit had come across his desk a few months before he'd had to lock himself in his office and remember how to breathe. They'd been waiting, he'd thought he'd wait for years more.

Jason had done well. Crime was dropping. Drug rings knew better than to try and operate in Gotham now. By the end of the year guns would be outlawed. Tim had made sure that the funding got where it needed to be once Jason had made his move against the cartels. There wasn't anything Jason could do about the big name villains, but things had changed when word got out that the Joker was dead. He didn't know if it was just that the villains were getting older, getting tired, but Gotham was growing quieter.

Having lived his entire life in Gotham, having it take what it had from him, Tim had never let himself really hope in any kind of future where things actually went his way. Where he could actually be happy. It wasn't perfect. There were days where he couldn't hear his phone ring without worrying over who had died. There were nights when he woke up to the sound of a crack and spent the rest of the night on his couch working. Someone always stopped by for lunch after those nights. But when one of the Bat tracker blogs he followed posted a picture of Damian's suit, barely different than Jason's except the holsters were gone, he couldn't help but let that little seed of hope in him grow. That maybe it could get as close to perfect as he'd ever had.

It had been a week since Damian had taken the cowl. The first few days he'd half expected Jason to show up at his office and ask him to dinner like it was no big deal. But as the days passed he wondered if he'd been wrong and it had been too long.

When they were younger Jason had called him a stalker when he found out how he'd discovered who Batman was. Red Hood had dropped in on him with a 'sup stalker' more times than he could count. Over the years that hadn't changed all that much. Once he decide he was going to go to Jason it didn't take much to find him. He was at one of his old safe houses overlooking Crime Alley. Tim had been tempted just to watch him for a few days, but when he saw Jason step out onto the fire escape and watch the sun setting through the buildings he gave up on that plan.

The next day he spent way too much time picking out his clothes, and worrying over what he should say. As he walked through the city with a hat pulled down low on his head and a tupperware tub in his hand, he couldn't hear anything but the racing of his heart. He looked up at the building as the evening started to color the night sky and jumped for the ladder. It took a few tries, he hoped no one was watching him, but he finally caught the rung and pulled it down.

He felt the fire escape creak as Jason stepped out a few floors above him. He stopped and focused on calming his heart as it hammered in his chest. Tim didn't think he'd ever been so nervous. Jason sat down, his legs hanging over the edge. He pulled the hat off and dropped it on the bike sitting on the fire escape next to him. He ran his hand through his hair. He should have gotten a haircut. Maybe he should wait. He looked up and shook his head. They'd waited long enough.

"I'm too old for this," he sat down at the edge of the fire escape as carefully as he could. The rattle of the fire escape made him a little nervous. Jason startled and looked up at him in amazement. He opened the Tupperware and set it between them. He held a fork out to Jason. "I'm still a terrible cook. I took one of those classes and everything." Jason took the fork.

They ate in silence on the fire escape overlooking the city. He looked over at Jason. He looked older, the stripe in his hair was wider, and longer. He wanted to run his fingers through it. Jason's shoulders were broader. He had known this. He'd seen the adjustments to the suit that Jason had needed as he'd bulked up over the years. But seeing those numbers on the page and sitting a mere foot away from him was a world of a difference. He took another forkful and looked back at the setting sun drifting below the skyline. They'd watched sunrise like this plenty of times before, masks on, bodies aching from the hard fought nights. He didn't think he'd ever actually watched the sun set.

"I could teach you if you wanted." He looked over to Jason who was watching him cautiously.

"I'd like that," he said quietly.

Jason smiled.

"Are you free now?"


End file.
